Hey Zombies - The Full Story REDUX
by mattjason93
Summary: First it takes Hillwood, then the east coast, and before long, the whole country will be at risk from a mysterious infection, creating psychopathic flesh eaters. Arnold must struggle with getting everything taken away from him once more as he battles zombies, vicious bandits, a scheming scientist, an old evil thought destroyed..and the inner demons of himself and his loved ones...
1. It All Starts Here

Hey Zombies – A Hey Arnold! Fan fiction

Prologue:

Journal Entry #22; August 2nd 2002

We won. The last of our problems were over and we came back happy with smiles on our faces. Life was finally beginning anew, and things looked great. For a while I started to miss Helga calling me football head. All the mind games we played with each other and all the times we looked and hated one another. It took a summer in San Lorenzo for me to realize where my heart truly belonged. We flew back with my dad's friend Eduardo and his plane. My parents swore to me they'd never leave my side again. I knew they were telling the truth. They set up an office in Mr. Smith's old room, keeping in touch with Eduardo with beepers given to them by Big Bob Pataki, out of gratitude for bringing his daughter home. Although I specifically angrily remember him calling her "Olga" when they reunited after we came back. But I decided to over look it. I see where I am now, how things are back to normal, how my parents are by my side again. I can now say; I'm home.

 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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Episode 1 - It All Starts Here

The flashlight clicked on. Even with its brightness, Eugene couldn't see a thing; nothing of value for that matter. Wind howled against the small basement window as Eugene panned his flashlight from right to left. The shelves were practically empty. It was not a good sign for the oncoming weeks, especially with four people needing sustenance. Eugene closed the door and followed the path out of the basement and back onto the main floor of Sunset Arms. Harold and Stinky were in the living room. The walls were cracked, paint started to wear out and the floorboards creaked with every step Eugene took. It gave Harold and Stinky no surprise to see him,

"Well Eugene? Where we at on supplies?" Stinky asked,

"Sorry guys, we're just about out of food. There's maybe two gallons of water left and three cans of pineapple cocktail. At this rate, we're going to be out of supplies in four days."

"What about that meat?! The beef we cooked outside two days ago?!" Harold bantered.

"Harold, the power's out. It wasn't going to stay good for long in that fridge down there. I know Arnold said we should save it, but he was just wanting to give us hope. I'm sure of it."

"Eugene, can you just keep your trap shut and never say 'sure' again?" Stinky suggested, "Your optimism's startin to get on mah nerves."

Eugene's forehead scrunched downward and his eyebrows raised pitifully, "Aw come on guys. It's not that bad. We've been here for two weeks. I mean Harold, it's exactly like the time we were in a tree!"

"I thought we were never talk about that again or I was gonna pound ya!" Harold raised his voice angrily, his fist tightened with knuckles crackling. Stinky and Eugene were both baffled by his sudden immaturity.

"Come on Eugene, that was ten years ago, we're grown up now." Said Stinky,

"Yea, with flesh eating sprinter freaks out to get us!" Harold added.

"Besides, have you ever thought to yourself, maybe it's time to check out? Kick the bucket?"

"Be at shalom with my brothers." Harold said.

"Harold, would you mind keepin' your religious superstitions to yourself?" Stinky responded to Harold.

"It got me through my bar mitzvah, it can keep me going in a zombie apocalypse!" Harold angrily replied.

Eugene interrupted, "Now fellas, how could you be so quick to give up? We've gone this long, why shouldn't we go for another day longer? Any day now, the soldie-"

"That's it! I'm kicking your ass Eugene!" Harold slammed out of his chair, ready to slam Eugene into the ground. Every step shook the floorboards.

"Everybody be QUIET!" yelled a voice from the kitchen.

Arnold put his pen down and took a quick glance over what he had written, "Journal entry #46, July 17, 2012. I thought we had won, the last of our problems were over and we'd go home happy with smiles on our faces. I thought I was finally home. My parents swore we'd never come apart again. Helga swore we'd always be at eachothers' side. And here we are, trapped in my once true home, now a destroyed wreck. Ten years is not enough time to catch up with my life, and I sure as hell wasn't ready for this. My friends and neighbors could be dead and waltzing around right outside my door, I may never see Helga, or my parents, or I could be forced to kill them if I saw them one last time. I've decided now was not the time to give up hope. I have a plan, and Eugene, Harold, and Stinky are going to listen. I know it'll work."

Ten minutes later, Arnold had Harold, Eugene, and Stinky sitting in silence across from each other, pondering what Arnold had just told them.

"I duno Arnold. You really think that'll work?"

"It has to, they're drawn to any sort of motion. It's been two weeks and we've had no activity on this street. They're getting hungry." Arnold responded.

"But it's a fight or flight plan Arnold, if we get caught in the wind, we're done for." Said Eugene.

"That's a chance we'll have to take." Arnold said, everybody sat in silence, "Look, I've been planning this for about four days now. I'm sorry I haven't brought it up until now but I didn't want to give you guys false hope. But there's no question about it for our situation now. We're dying. And if we don't act, we're going to die here, in my destroyed home."

"Arnold. It's hard to understand, but this ain't your home no more. We're all here to survive, not make irrational decisions." Stinky said.

"When your family's been taken away from you, irrational is the only way you can think." Arnold responded.

"But we could die if we mess up. I don't wanna die!" Harold said whiney, once more showing his lack of growth to the group.

"You're not gonna die Harold. Before this madness, I've seen you work out. You've run up and down 33rd street six times in one hour and look how slim you've gotten! How can you not out run flesh eating zombies?" Arnold rebuttled.

"Well for one thing Arnold, I didn't have flesh eating zombies out to get me when I was burning my fat!" Harold responded.

"I for one think it's a great plan!" Eugene chimed in.

"Shut up Eugeeeeene." Harold murmured.

"Look Harold, it won't be as challenging as you think it is. If Stinky's truck is still there, he can hotwire it for us while you keep the ones on the street busy. When you hear us get the truck started, get to Gerald Field lot and we'll pick you up. I promise you, swear by my life that you will be safe." Said Arnold, everybody sat in silence, pondering,

"Look, this is our street, and we know how our street works. If we can't execute this plan, than this wasn't our home to begin with. But we've been here for twenty years, as long as we've been alive. After all this time, I finally had a home, with people I love. It wasn't even like this when Scheck tried to destory our neighborhood, what's so different dealing with an impending epidemic? We fought back then, and we won. This time around, we need to fight twice as hard. Now what do you guys say?"

Silence.

"I'd say you're as crazy as you were ten years ago Arnold." Harold said blandly. Arnold started to droop his head out of loss of hope, "But like Gerald always said, you're a bold kid." Harold said again with a smile.

Arnold started to glow again, and things started to look up, "Come on," he said, "Let's go get find the rest of our family."

Eugene went back down to the basement and grabbed the cans and water jugs. As he brought them upstairs, he walked past Stinky whom was rummaging through the closet till he found his shotgun and the shells in a separate red box.

Harold was in the living room, tying his shoe laces on his Reeboks, his heart pumping. Arnold came into the room, "Doing ok Harold?"

"Yeah I'm ok. Just nervous, not ready to die, you know?" Harold said.

"I know Harold. But understand that when we find our friends out there, you will be hailed a hero for helping us escape this death trap." Arnold said. Harold smiled and looked back down at his shoes. "We're heading out in fifteen." Arnold said, raising his voice a little.

When the time came, it was Arnold, Eugene, Stinky, and Harold at the door. Stinky had the shotgun pumped and ready to go. Eugene, the duffle bag of supplies in his right hand, and Arnold at the door handle, holding the last piece of the barrier he had torn down that was previously put up.

"Ok Harold, ready? Make no mistake. This is fight or flight. Live or die." Arnold said.

"I know Arnold. Let's do this." Harold said.

"Ok." Arnold breathed out a sigh of tension, "One." The others started to shuffle their feet. "Two." Harold's lip quivered, he thought of Rhonda for a second, her black hair, before the thought was gone. Arnold shouted.

"Three! Go!"

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To be continued


	2. Finding Friends

_**Hey Zombies**_

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Episode 2 - Finding Friends

The breeze kept the foul odor of the slop away from the truck cab. As long as it kept the monsters away from their car, Sid and Gerald felt as safe as they could be. The night was dark and smelt of death. As cliché as that may sound, Sid and Gerald were still afraid of what they might find in the depths of their old home.

For a while, the roof of PS 118 was their safe house, until they ran out of their special slop concoction that covered their human scent with its foul odor. Sid's truck still had a few buckets of it in the back, which kept them safe as they drove through 34th street, looking for any survivors.

"There's nothing here Gerald. You're not gonna find what you're looking for."

"Sid, keep it down with the pessimism would ya? Arnold's out here, he wouldn't abandon his home that quickly. Double back onto 33rd again, maybe something's changed." Gerald said. Sid sighed with exhaustion and turned at the next corner. 33rd was just as dead. Sid looked at Gerald in discomfort, with eyes of reassurance. "Flash the headlights." Gerald ordered.

Sid pulled the switch and the beams of light shot outward. Any zombies in front cleared from the pain of the brightness. Gerald stuck his head out the back window and took a whiff out of the slop buckets, graceful yet disgusted that they were still giving off their strong odor which continued to block their scent. Sid clicked the lights a couple more times until he began to hear something. He stopped clicking the lights, and turned them all the way off.

Gerald pulled his head back in, "What is it?"

Sid said, "Out there, by Mr. Green's shop." He pointed to the right. Gerald leaned forward and squinted. Sure enough, there were four figures on the roof of Green's shop, hopping up and down, waving their arms. Surrounding them was a horde clawing at the sides of the building, hungry for their meal. "Let's go." Sid said. Gerald nodded in agreement.

They slowly pulled up and stopped the truck a few feet from the horde that surrounded Green's shop, wanting the flesh on the bones of those four standing on the rooftop. "I'll toss a slop bucket on them, you find a way up to that rooftop." Gerald reached under his seat and pulled out his makeshift machete. Sid and Gerald piled out of the truck. Sid hopped in the back and picked up a bucket. Gerald dashed for the side of the building, jumping a couple blocking his path, running for the side of the building.

"Arnold! Arnold you up there man!" Gerald called. Sid took the slippery bucket in his hands and cast the slop inside onto the horde. Slowly they began to disperse, the slop's odor sealing up their hunger and they began to roam again.

"Arnold!" Gerald called again. A few seconds later, a football shaped head peaked over the side.

"Gerald!" He said. Next, Stinky stuck his big pencil head over the side.

"Well if it ain't Geraldo, in the flesh. You're lookin good sonny boy! Lose weight?" Stinky said to lighten the mood.

"I'd be lankier than you Stinky, who's there with you." Gerald said.

"Stinky, Harold and Eugene. You got room in your truck?" Arnold responded.

"Just enough for the four of ya. Can you handle the smell of slop?" Gerald said.

"What?"

"Slop. I'll explain when I get up there witcha."

"Sure, those bins to your right we used as a ladder, knocked them down so they couldn't get us." Arnold said.

"Copy that Arnoldo." Gerald said. He quickly started to create a makeshift staircase out of the bins and cans piled up at the building corner.

"Got maybe five more minutes before the slop wears off Gerald!" Sid called. Gerald began to hustle and slowly began his ascent up to the building.

The boxes suddenly jerked from under him and before he could topple with them, Arnold was there to grab his hand and helped him up. Gerald found himself on top of the creaky rooftop of Green's shop to see Arnold and Stinky standing beside him, Eugene standing on the edge with his hands in his pockets. Harold was leaning against the exhaust vent, clutching his hand. Gerald started to march towards him.

"What's with big boy Harold?" Gerald asked.

"Oh it's nothing; he had an accident trying to get up here. Broke his finger" Arnold explained.

"Why's there blood all over him? He needed a band-aid for something broken?" Gerald asked, more suspicious.

"Really Gerald it's nothing." Arnold said again.

"Sure don't sound like nothing to you or me." Gerald said, he leaned down and snagged Harold's hand, pulling it away from his own clutches. In horror, Gerald stared at Harold's left hand, missing a finger and green pus pulsating from the open veins. Gerald dropped it and backed away in disgust.

"He got bit." Arnold said sullenly, his head started to droop. Gerald looked at Arnold and back down at him. Eugene noticed them and started to walk towards them.

"It was a good cause Gerald. He did what he could to save us from Arnold's boarding house." Eugene said.

"You lost the house?" Gerald asked.

"It's gone Gerald. We had to get out or we were gonna die."

"So you baited our friend to save your own skins…" Gerald murmured.

"I wasn't bait Gerald," Harold spoke up, grunting, "I volunteered. It was the best I could do and my hope got the best of me. Dad always taught me never let hope turn into expectations."

"How much time you got left?" Gerald asked bluntly. Arnold tapped his shoulder roughly.

"Maybe half an hour. If it wasn't for Arnold's pairing knife and cutting off my finger, I would've turned by now."

"That's for damn sure." Gerald responded, he turned and pulled Arnold aside. "Arnold we can't take him with us. No chance to find a cure in that time. We either take care of him now, or let him suffer."

"Two more minutes guys!" Sid cried from the truck.

"Arnold we gotta do it now or never. Harold's a walking time bomb, we can't take him with us!" Gerald raised his voice. Arnold started to speak. But Harold coughed.

"I'll go out there." Harold said. Everybody turned toward him, "I'll go out there and drive them away as far as I can. I'll run south, you guys take the truck to Stinky's house, get his Honda and get the hell out of here." Harold finished.

"Harold, no, there's got to be some other way."

"One minute!" Sid cried.

"Arnold, you've always had my back for better or worse. I owe you my life anyways for San Lorenzo." Harold said with a smile, "I'll drop down and drive them away. When you hear me hit the ground, you take off and go." Harold stood up with strain but Eugene helped him up on his last leg. Harold looked at everybody and then walked to the ledge of the building.

Arnold looked at him, "Harold..What about Rhonda?" Harold stopped, looked forward and then back at Arnold, "I knew she always liked me. If you see her, tell her I still remember the Tunnel of Love." Harold said. Before Harold turned back towards the horde down below him, Arnold saw a tear shining off his cheek from the dreary sunrise.

"Good luck big boy." Gerald said.

Harold said with a sobbing chuckle, "Shoulda seen me earlier Gerald, I was a beast, drove them off a mile."

"Always had it in you Harold." Arnold said with a smile.

"Bye guys, keep me in your thoughts and stay alive." Harold said. With that, he leaned forward, shouted "Geronimo!" and landed on the pavement, thirty feet below him. The zombies barely noticed him as the odor of the slop was slowly wearing off. Harold looked around for a moment, regained his bearings and started to sprint down the street to the left, "COME ON YOU CREEPS! COME GET YOUR MEAL!" Harold cried. Slowly but surely, the horde started to draw away from the building and began to pick up Harold's scent. They started to growl and snarl, before long, they were sprinting down the road after their newfound bait.

The group still on the roof took their moment of silence and Gerald spoke up, "That's that, let's get moving." He turned around, and leapt off the rooftop to the side, Arnold, Stinky, and Eugene followed suit. They ran back around to the front of the building where Sid was waiting.

"Let's get the he double hockey sticks out of here!" Eugene exclaimed. He, Arnold and Stinky hopped in the back of the truck, and Gerald slid into the passenger seat. Sid struggled with the key.

"Come on Sid let's go!"Gerald cried.

"The engine's not sparking! Key won't start the damn thing!" Sid said as he gruntingly turned the key repetitively.

"Let's goooo!" Gerald cried again. Sid continued to struggle until he stopped. A sound echoed down the street, distant at first but slowly started to grow louder. It was a howling screech, like a derailing train scraping the rails as it tumbled. Everybody in the truck slowly turned toward the direction of the sound. What they saw was horrifying. Arnold stared in horror as what appeared to be thousands upon thousands of bloodthirsty monsters sprinting down the street charging directly at the truck.

Sid sat in the driver's seat, dropping the key to the truck floor, to no avail.

"Is this really happening fellers?" Stinky asked, his voice shaking and lip shivering.

"I think so Stinky.." Arnold mumbled. Before he knew it, a hand grasped Arnold from behind and pulled him off the truck bed to the floor. Arnold looked up at his captor and horrifyingly gasped at the sight of a zombified Harold, breathing, his chest pumping in and out, white shirt coated with viscous saliva still drooling from his mouth. Arnold could only stare at the stars above as the horde slammed into the truck, overtaking his friends, and Harold bending down to tear open Arnold's throa-

The truck bounced from a rock on the street, the bounce slammed Arnold's head against the window and woke him up.

"Rise and shine Arnold! You done near passed out as soon as we got to the truck." Stinky said, his hands gripping the wheel. Arnold panned his eyes over to the passenger seat, Eugene leaned around and took a look at him.

"Looks like you needed that rest Arnold." Eugene said with a smile. Arnold then looked over to his left side and saw Harold there, his arm resting on the window sill and looking out to the night sky.

"Whe-where are we?" Arnold choked.

"35th street, Harold was lucky he didn't get caught up in his sprinting, getting to the truck wasn't so hard, now was it?" Stinky responded.

Arnold looked out, the apartment buildings towered over, businesses were closed for food, and blood was scraped and caked along the sidewalk, "Go back to 33rd."

"33rd? Arnold, we just came from 34th, what makes you think going deeper into Hillwood's gonna help us?" Stinky asked.

"I just have a feeling. Don't worry, I think we're in the clear. I feel like there's something we have to do there. I don't know what." Arnold thought of his dream, of Gerald and Sid, of Mr. Green's meat shop.

"Whatever you say Arnold." Stinky said. He sighed with exhaustion and turned at the next corner.

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To be continued


	3. Marty Green

_**Hey Zombies**_

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Episode 3 - Marty Green

Mr. Green's shop was just up ahead. The wheels of the truck kicked up dust from the road and the wind carried the particles away. Stinky had to dodge several pieces of debris, random objects in the road, empty trash bins, shattered glass, corpses.

"Right here's good." Arnold said. Stinky adjusted the wheel and pulled the truck closer to the abandoned shop, getting close enough to not be detected and at the same time be close enough if a getaway was needed. "Kill the engine." Stinky turned the key and pulled it out to put it in his pocket. Then he reached behind the seat and pulled out the shotgun from the chair's backside pocket. One by one, the four piled out of the truck, and approached the front entrance of Green's shop.

"No lights. I don't hear a thing." Arnold said.

"Sure am smelling a thing, gee." Stinky said, holding his lanky nose. Eugene choked a bit.

"Who knows how much produce is rotting in there." Eugene said, "Arnold, are you sure this is a good idea?" Eugene asked.

"I'm positive Eugene. Come on, we'll go in together." Arnold replied.

"Great, you first Arnold." Said Harold. Arnold approached the door, its bottom half still standing and attached to the hinges while the top half was completely smashed in, as if someone broke in from the outside. Carefully, Arnold took it step by step, climbing over the intact part of the door and placing his feet on the green tile floor which was surprisingly dry and absent of any sort of mess or human remains. Arnold slowly rotated completely around, observing his surroundings as the rest of his group entered. The first thing to catch Arnold's attention was a low droning hum, next was the foul odor that circled the room.

"Great, we're here, now what?" Harold said.

"Try the lights." Arnold ordered.

"Arnold, we're livin' in a world where everything is destroyed, what makes you think the lights are gonna work here out of all places?" Stinky questioned. Arnold looked back at him, determined and began to walk toward the front counter. Stinky sighed and walked over back to the door and flicked the light switch. A quiet buzz echoed the room for a second and then ceased. No lights turned on.

"Eugene, come with me, we're gonna check the back. Stinky and Harold, look for anything useful, knives, food." Arnold approached the door to the back storage room, it was still intact and almost looked brand new. Arnold slowly opened it and Eugene followed, leaving Harold to examine Green's family pictures on the walls and Stinky to rummage behind the counter.

The storage room was just as empty, the low droning hum was the only thing Arnold kept hearing. As he brought it to Eugene's attention as well, the two began to seek out the source of the noise. Arnold walked one way and the sound started to get quieter, Eugene walked the other way and it got louder. The hum was at its loudest at a door to the employee restroom, it started to sound like an engine. Eugene called Arnold over. The door was locked. The two backed away and Arnold caught site of an orange wire running from under the crack at the bottom of the door to a busted hole in the wall.

"Wait Eugene, don't do anything yet. I'm gonna try something first." Arnold said, he walked away, glancing one last time at Eugene to check his safety, and approached the light switch they had past when they entered the room. Slowly and quietly, Arnold reached out with his hand, pinched the switch with his two big fingers and moved it upward. The lights instantly clicked on. Both Eugene and Arnold flinched with pain at the sudden burst of light.

"Turn it off, turn it off!" Eugene whispered loudly. Arnold agreed, knowing any source of light could draw attention from "unwanted guests". After he turned the switch off, he went back over to Eugene at the door with the hum on the other side, "On three?"

"On three." Arnold replied. The two counted to three, and slammed into the door with their shoulders. The impact noise echoed the front room where it caught Stinky's attention. He looked toward the direction that Arnold and Eugene disappeared to but then continued to scavenge.

"Again." Arnold said, the two backed up, and then synchronously slammed into the door, their momentum carrying them into the newly opened room. After regaining their balance, they looked around the utility bathroom, the humming noise blasting from the stall. Arnold looked back down at the floor and found the orange wire again. He followed it to the door and creaked it open. It revealed a small metallic box with pipes running around the exterior. A small green light emitted from the top where the orange wire connected next to a small screw cap. Arnold could smell the gasoline.

"A generator. Still running." Eugene said.

"Turn it off and check inside, maybe we can siphon the gas out and use it for the truck." Arnold said as he left the room, leaving Eugene to examine the generator. Arnold went back out front to where Stinky and Harold were. Stinky had a makeshift container in his hand with a few cans and a bottle with something in it. Harold had found a leather pouch with a couple kitchen knives in it. "We found a generator, it's still running but the gas could be useful."

Just as Arnold left the back room, a shadowy figure snuck past the entry door and entered the bathroom. Eugene had crouched down to examine the generator closer and started to unscrew the gas cap. As soon as he had it cracked open, two grimy hands gripped Eugene by the shoulder. The figure growled and tossed him out of the stall, slamming him against the tiled wall. The impact caught the trio's attention in front and they dashed back to the employee restroom. Stinky grabbed his shotgun off the counter and followed suit.

Accidentally Stinky tripped, sending the shotgun flying further into the storage room. They piled at the bathroom door to see the overweight figure towering over an incapacitated Eugene, a long metallic object in his hand, almost about to strike Eugene down. It noticed Arnold at the door and began to charge him. The three dashed out of the way, dodging the hefty character as it came charging out swinging its club around. Stinky regained his balance with the shotgun and took aim, trying to adjust to avoid hitting anybody else besides the shadowy clad figure.

Just as the figure entered the dim lights of the storage room, Arnold could see the freckly glasses clad face of Marty Green.

"Mr. Green stop!" Arnold called. As he began to calm Marty down, Stinky and Harold began to notice it was Marty Green as well, uninfected and face full of terror. "Mr. Green! It's ok, it's us!" Green started to slow down his swinging, and his gritted teeth started to loosen, his cries of fear getting calmer and calmer. "Mr. Green, it's Harold, Stinky, Arnold, and Eugene. We're not infected, we're here in the flesh."

"Take it easy, Marty." Harold chimed in. Marty started to squint, dashing his eyes between the three young adults before him.

"Ar-Arnold?" Marty said in his raspy voice.

"Yes Mr. Green. It's us. Put the crowbar down." Arnold said with a smile. Marty let the metal bar droop to the floor in his hand

"My god. Never thought I'd see you boys again. Not after all the hell these last few weeks." Marty said with a cough to the floor. When he raised his head again, Stinky could notice spittle drops of red in the spot where Marty coughed.

"Have you been here all by yourself?" Harold asked.

"Willie was here for about the first week, but being locked up in here didn't sit so well for him." Marty coughed again, this time internally, "You know how the 'jolly olly man' is." Marty said sarcastically.

"I'm sure he's doing alright." Arnold said.

"Yeah, probably cutting off heads left and right whether they're human or not. Guy was always a psychopath. How'd you get in here?" Marty asked.

"The front door was bashed in. We heard the humming of your generator so we came back here to check it out."

"Yeah that damn thing's been keepin me alive for some time now."

"How much gas does it have?" Stinky asked.

"The tank's maybe half full, and I've got something with about five more gallons in it over in that corner over there." Marty responded.

"We can siphon the gas out of there and use it for our truck. You can come with us, we're about to head out of town." Arnold suggested.

"I would Arnold, but I don't know if I'd be able to leave. I mean I'm big, you guys are small, I'd burden you too much." Marty replied. As he spoke, Stinky started to notice Marty's hands, the hand not holding the crowbar had a faded colored bandage wrapped around the pinky, or at least where Marty's pinky should be, "Besides, I love my shop, feel like I was born to live and die with this place in my hands, heh." Marty ended, he started to walk back towards the front room, "Sorry about Eugene by the way. Is he okay?" He said.

Just as Marty spoke, Eugene came stumbling out, his hand clutching his shoulder, "I'm okay." Eugene droned.

"Come on Mr. Green, this may seem like the end, but we've got so much more to live for. Helga, Sid, Gerald…all of the kids love you and your shop. Do you realize how much it would mean if they saw you still alive?" Arnold said.

"I can't Arnold. In fact, now that you mention it, your friends came through here just a few days ago." Marty said.

Arnold stopped, his head started to spin, thoughts started to pour out, thoughts of hope, dread, fear, "Was it Gerald and Sid that you saw?" Arnold asked.

"Yeah…yeah in fact it was them two, they came in and asked if I'd seen you. How'd you know?" Marty asked.

"I…I don't know. Gerald and I have always been best friends, I figured I'd ask." Arnold responded. The rest of his group looked at him dumbfoundedly. Arnold questioned his own clairvoyance internally.

"Well regardless, they were asking about you and the boarding house. Apparently there were too many of those things to get to your house. They said they were gonna keep heading east toward PS118." Marty said.

"Come on Arnold, let's go. Maybe Gerald's got a safe house set up at the school." Harold suggested.

"No, Marty, I am not leaving you here to die. You deserve better than that." Arnold said sternly. Marty was shocked that Arnold had called an adult by their first name for the first time in his life.

"Arnold. You're a good kid. Always have been a pusher, not for the bad, but for the good of everyone in Hillwood. You have no idea how good you are." Marty said, coughing again, leaning against the doorway to the front lobby.

"I do what I can." Arnold said, still stern.

"And that's why you're bringing this place back to life one day. You and your friends are like a gift to me. Every time I saw you come in. Harold I still remember how much of a pest you were wanting to work for me, every day." Harold smiled at his remark, "And Stinky, I still recall the meat feast your family put on for Thanksgiving. That was my record sale for my shop. Thank you for that Stinky." Arnold could see a tear glistening in Marty's eye.

"Mr. Green.. Why are you telling us all this?" Arnold asked solemnly.

"Can't tell you Arnold. But I can tell you, you need to get out of here and quick. I don't know how much time I've got left." Marty responded.

"Why's that…"

"I think I know Arnold. Show us the pinky Mr. Green." Stinky said. Marty realized he had been discovered. He started to approach the boys, unwrapping the bandages on his pinky. As he peeled the last of it off, the four revolted in disgust to see Marty's pinky completely hacked off, and green pus pulsing from the open veins. Eugene retched at the sight.

Arnold began to recall his dream, how Harold had the same injury, the exact same hand, same color of pus…

Arnold began to realize what his dream was telling him, "Mr. Green… How long ago had this been?"

"Three days ago in fact, one of them crashed through that door back there. I got him but only before the bastard nicked my hand. Cutting off the wound as close to the body as possible seems to slow it down but I can tell I don't have much longer. Seriously, Arnold you guys need to get out of here and quick. Find your friends and start anew."

Arnold sulked his head, realizing what was about to happen.

"I know how it must feel, getting your life back, and having it taken away from you. Your parents actually bought from me one time. They're beautiful people, and they raised a beautiful son."

Arnold continued to remain silent. Eugene started to approach him to convince him to leave, "Ten years ain't enough time to catch up with your life son. I still remember the day you returned. You had your parents by your side and that girl was holding your hand..I'll never forget how glowing you were…I could tell you were finally happy. Understand this Arnold, go out there. Go out there and get your life back...will ya do that for me Arnold?" Marty said.

Arnold slowly raised his head and looked Marty directly in the eyes, "I swear it."

Marty returned Arnold's answer with a jolly smile.

"Come on Arnold," Eugene said, "If Gerald and Sid are out there looking for us like he said, they can't be far away." Arnold nodded; he turned and started to follow everybody else out. Arnold looked back one more time to see Marty Green.

"Take care Arnold. Tell Helga and your parents I said hey." Marty said with a wink and a smile.

Arnold choked on a single sob and a tear dripped down his cheek.

"Wait," Marty called, "Stinky, come here with that shotgun." Stinky looked at the group and went back to Marty. Arnold, Eugene, and Harold went back out, and approached the truck.

Marty walked over to one of the shelves, clutching his finger in pain, "Wasn't a good idea to open that bandage. At least it'll be over soon now. Stinky you know what to do."

"I do, Mr. Green." Stinky responded. Marty started to grunt with pain, his freckled face started to matte with sweat.

"Don't waste a single second now." Marty said. Stinky nodded. They waited in silence for a few more seconds. Then Marty said, "What about your family Stinky?"

"Dad's gone. My ma was evacuated, couldn't get home in time to join her." Stinky said sullenly.

"You're gonna find her Stinky. I'll make sure of it when I see the man upstairs." Marty said. He began to grunt again, louder this time. Stinky knew it was getting closer and he backed away.

As Marty took in his final breath, he said, "At least we took care of those damn potholes." Marty grunted with a smile. He exhaled all the breath he had left, and before it was gone, he was gone. Stinky cocked the shotgun and aimed it at Marty's body.

Outside, Eugene and Harold were sitting on the edge of the truck bed and Arnold rested against the driver's door, his head in his elbow.

Next thing they heard was a loud screech, and soon after, a loud gunshot that seemed to echo for hours…..

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To be continued


	4. Just Around the Corner

_**Hey Zombies**_

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Episode 4 - Just Around the Corner

June 30, 2012

Arnold was upstairs when there was a knock on the door. Miles went to it and answered. He smiled with delight at the presence he saw before him. Calling Arnold's name, he leaned against the banister of the stairs and Arnold came pouring down the steps, his plaid pearl snap shirt fluttering in the drifty air. He pulled on the edge of his inner green shirt as he looked up to see who was at the door.

"Eugene! Stinky!" Arnold called with delight. He rushed to them and gave them both hugs, "Can't believe you showed up!" He said again.

"Didn't think we'd skip out on you during the summer didja?" Stinky said.

"We just got back a couple days ago in fact. The lease on our house expired June 1st so we had to head out sooner or later." Eugene said with a smile.

"Awesome! How was your first semester at DeVry?" Arnold asked.

"A bit glum, sad that my parents couldn't afford Julliard, but I'm glad Stinky was there to help me settle in. With a house to share, classes to go to, we did alright for ourselves." Eugene responded.

"You shoulda seen him in 'Eugene, Eugene!' Arnold. The director loved him." Stinky said.

"Wish I could've, but my classes here in Hillwood kept me from going anywhere, plus I had to help Mr. Green quite a few times for my community project." Arnold replied.

"Gee Arnold, ten years in the making since you found your folks and you're a changed man." Stinky said. As they began to talk their way up to Arnold's room, Miles smiled and walked back down the hallway. He glanced up at a portrait of Phil and Gertrude, taking extra time to look at Gerty's glowing face. He continued to walk down to the study where Stella was, looking over FTi intel, looking panicked with a phone in her ear.

"Ten years later and those boys are closer than ever. Never thought I'd see Arnold grown up and happy at the same time." Miles said delightfully. Stella however couldn't give him feedback, her back still turned to him, until she stood up to look at him. She had the cordless phone in her hand; moving both hands to clutch it tightly and Miles could see her lip quivering with fear.

Meanwhile, up in Arnold's room, "So Arnold, your parents doing alright workin' for that German feller?" Stinky asked?

"To an extent, they don't get along well with their C.O., creative differences I suppose, but thankfully Dad's military status as a Colonel has helped them reach compromise on a lot of their projects."

"To think that Future Tech Industries was once just a real estate agency, all that funding the military put into their evolution is astounding to me!" Eugene said.

"You know my folks, when they heard FTi was after this neighborhood when they came back they knew they had to change something, so they invested and helped FTi become this worldwide global business with divisions in every field you can imagine."

"So Arnold. Tell us, did you get it?" Eugene said, tucking his legs under his feet and hands on his knee caps, like a second grade girl at a slumber party. Stinky was also tickled pink to hear Arnold's answer to Eugene's question.

"In fact, I was gonna get it tomorrow." Arnold said. Eugene and Stinky sighed with happy relief.

"About time Arnold. Took you guys twenty years to get on the same page and now it's happening." Stinky said.

"What's the ring like? Is it round? Shiny? Is the diamond huge?" Eugene asked hastily.

"Woah slow down Eugene. Listen, it's perfect for her, that's all I care about. I'm ready and so is she."

"You guys need a wedding planner? I've learned some expert techniques on how to make an outstanding wedding!" Eugene said.

"No, I'll keep in touch with you though, ya never know." Arnold said with a smirk.

Miles began to storm up the stairs to Arnold's room, Stella right behind, "Miles, we can't do it this fast. We have to be subtle." Stella said.

"There's no time for subtle Stella." Miles responded.

"He has his friends, his girlfriend. You think this is gonna be easy for him? We can't take him and just leave them behind."

"Eduardo said he had evacs coming in right?" Miles said.

Stella rebuttled, "There are no guarantees in this situation. We need to get Arnold out safely. I'll take him, you keep in touch with Eduardo and make sure they have choppers coming _here_."

"Fine." Miles said before he knocked on the door. Slowly, he opened the door and popped his head in, "Arnold can we talk to you?" He said. Arnold got up, gave a quick wave to his friends and went out into the hallway with his parents.

"Son, we have something to tell you. It's pretty big, but we don't know how else to say it." Miles began. Arnold looked at him very worriedly and puzzled, "There's been an accident at one of FTi's posts."

"Omega, on the east coast. Our medical department there has had some...issues with our research on the sleeping sickness and apparently our last experiment went wrong." Stella added.

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked, still extremely worried.

Miles walked downstairs to the study and Arnold and Stella followed, "You'll probably be able to see for yourself." Miles said as he clicked the remote on the television and changing it to the main news channel.

Arnold stared in horror as he watched a helicopter shot hovering over New York City where it looked like swarms of people charging others. He could see little red spots all over the streets and realized it was a violent scenario. He stopped his horrific thoughts to listen to the newscaster, "The outbreak had been spreading since early this morning, no comment is being made on the cause of this horrific scene but one thing is certain, these people who appear to be infected have become extremely aggressive and are very violent. Again we want to thank New York's Skycam for providing this live feed to all east coast news broadcasts."

It then cut to a news anchor at his desk with hands squeezing the papers in his hands nervously. "It's a very disturbing scene indeed. At this time we are beginning our emergency broadcast system for Hill County. If you sense any violent activity outside, please remain indoors, find supplies to barricade all entrances to your home and await further instruction. We will attempt to remain on the air as long as possible here at the station, to provide as many updates as we can. Please, stay safe everybody."

"That's enough, Miles." Stella said. Miles quickly clicked the television off. Arnold continued to stare at the blank screen, the reflection of his horrified expression stared right back at him.

"How bad is it?" Arnold asked looking at Miles.

"We don't know son. But it's bad enough that we have to evacuate. There's nothing else we can do. Eduardo's got some of FTi's security team coming in that's going to evacuate as many people as they can. So far the outbreak is only on the east coast, it is airborne but we don't know how fast it's moving. A chopper's gonna take us to one of the FTi stations out west. There we'll be safe."

"My friends?" Arnold asked.

"They'll be fine. I promise you," said Miles, "Eduardo assured us he's got choppers coming for Hillwood. Everybody in the neighborhood's gonna be evacuated. The priority is that we get you to safety so we can figure out how to fix this."

Arnold sat there, his face a dull blank, "Things are going to be different Arnold. But they will never change between us." Miles said.

"Remember our promise. We're keeping it. We have to leave, but this time you're coming with us." Said Stella, "this time you're coming with us…." The words echoed in Arnold's head.

Arnold stirred quietly in the back of Stinky's truck. They were fifteen minutes away from Green's shop, the location they had just departed. A small bump woke him, but slowly and surely, Arnold drifted back to sleep.

It was only after Miles and Stella reminded him of their promise that Harold came banging at the door, he looked panicked, his head matted with sweat and red blobs sprayed on his clothes. "Harold! What is it?" Miles asked.

"Th-they killed Mrs. Vitello!" Harold erupted, bursting into the house, "I was at her shop across the street, I had these flowers in my hand. I went to pay for them and these two employees came bursting out. They dashed after her and took her over like animals!" Harold continued to scream.

"Harold calm down..what did these two people look like?" Miles asked. Police sirens started to blare behind Harold, dashing down the street.

"They were just people, working for her flower shop. Their eyes looked red and lips were almost cracked and bleeding" Miles looked back behind him, towards Stella and Arnold.

"It's here."

Miles dashed down the hallway with a duffle bag in his hand, "Arnold go wake up Phil in his room. Harold, Stinky and Eugene are upstairs, get the other boarders out on your way and get them on the roof."

He entered the study where Stella was, on her cell phone, a Future Tech Industries logo stamped on the phone's exterior, "Any word from Eduardo?" Miles asked.

"The choppers took off from the base twenty minutes ago; they should be here in a minute." She responded.

Miles came back out to the hallway where Arnold was, leading Grandpa out rubbing his head groggingly, "What in the heck hootenanny is going on son?" Grandpa asked.

"No time to explain Dad, we've gotta head out of town for a while."

"Oooh, did you get in trouble with your fancy new company?" Grandpa asked sarcastically.

"Something like that." Miles responded with a bitter smirk, "Come on, we gotta get to the roof, there's a chopper coming to get us." Miles started to rush up the stairs, followed by Arnold, Stella, and Phil. Coming onto the roof from Arnold's skylight window, the whole boarding house was there.

"Wait, I forgot something." Arnold said. He dashed back down through the window and went to his desk, grabbing his journal.

Miles stood among the group, "Mr. Shortman! What is going on?" Tai Hyunh, amongst the boarders, asked hastily.

"There was an accident at Future Tech, a virus is spreading across the east coast." Miles responded. Just then, a loud slamming noise drew the group's attention to the side of the building. They stared in horror to see people charging at other people, slamming them to the ground, fists throwing everywhere. Two cars had collided and both slid onto the sidewalk. One had caught on fire from the impact. Suzie Kokashka's eyes started to dilate, her nose flared with fear. Oscar stood next to her, arms slumped at his side, equally afraid but not sharing it with his wife. Beside them was Terry Flinch, a new boarder who had moved in three years prior to the house.

"Come back over here everybody!" Stella called, "The choppers are gonna be here any minute. As long as they don't see us up here, we'll be fine." She assured.

"Wait!" Miles called. He remained on the edge of the building and watched as the sprinters drew closer and closer to the boarding house's front porch, "If they get any closer they're gonna try and get in. We need more time. Terry come with me." He said as he dashed back down the skylight window, Terry followed. "Arnold come help us, we need to bar the front door." Miles said as he passed Arnold at his desk, looking at a picture of Helga. He tucked the photo in his button shirt pocket and followed his father. They went down both flights of stairs and stood at the front door.

"Terry, grab the couch in the living room, Arnold go help him." The two obeyed. Miles went into the kitchen and grabbed all the chairs, followed by the dinner table itself, dragging it over to the door.

Before long the door was sealed by three hundred pounds of wood furniture and heavy table top accessories, "What about the windows?" Terry asked.

"Close the blinds and hope they don't see us." Miles aid.

Back on the roof, Stella watched as two large Chinooks drew closer to the rooftop.

Down in the house, Terry approached the window. He reached for the stick that operates the blinds until suddenly a bloody hand smacked against the glass. Terry jolted for a second. The infected human stared at him, lips cracked and eyes red like Harold described. It rubbed its hand up and down the glass a couple times and stared directly at Terry.

Before Terry could swallow or even blink, the zombie crashed through the window with its shoulders, pinning Terry on the ground. Miles rushed to his aid as Arnold backed away in panicked fear.

As Miles grasped the zombie's shoulder, he turned to Arnold, "Arnold, the closet! Get something blunt!" Arnold quickly dashed to the front closet and reached for his personal baseball bat.

Miles backed away as Arnold slammed the bat into the zombie's back. It only seemed to make the monster more aggressive. It drooled and spewed blood all over Terry's face and seemed to only get more stuck to him. Finally Arnold held the bat down low and took a golf swing at its head, sending it flying. Its head was cracked, blood poured out of its ears from the blow. Terry lay twitching on the ground.

"Arnold, give me that." Miles said, holding his hand out. Arnold handed him the bat, "It's too late." Miles said as he reared the baseball bat behind him. He threw it down hard into Terry's face, smashing what was left of his skull into the carpet.

Arnold stared in horror, Miles had killed someone he had lived with for three years, who he worked with, had a beer with, had laughs with.

The choppers had landed. Two people in black uniforms with sub machine guns came dashing away from the helicopters' gushing winds. One went up to Stella. The other escorted the rest of the group to the second helicopter. They each piled in and buckled into their seats. Suzie and Oscar got split up. Suzie ended up next to Helga and Bob Pataki, her father, already loaded on the chopper.

"Mrs. Shortman! We need to evacuate you and Colonel Shortman immediately!" He said as the first chopper took off.

"My husband's downstairs with my son!"

Back down in the house, "You need to learn this here and now son. If we can't get this under control soon, and more of these things start to emerge. You have to do what needs to be done." Miles said, stern. Just then, a loud slam hit the front door. One of the two soldiers came running down the stairs.

"Colonel Shortman, you and your family need to get on the chopper upstairs immediately." Miles nodded.

"Roger that, let's go." Just then, another zombie came hopping in from the window followed by a few more. Their aggression got the best of them as they staggered to enter the house. The soldier took aim with his weapon and fired, killing two of them. They went back up to the roof as more slamming rocked the door and its faulty barricade.

The second chopper had already lifted off; everyone was loaded on except Eugene, Harold, and Stinky. Arnold, Miles and the soldier ran up to the helicopter. Arnold could see several people already inside, but they didn't look like civilians or neighbors of Hillwood, Arnold could see some dressed in lab coats.

The other soldier who was waiting cried out to them, "There's no more room! We need to get Colonel Miles out of here!"

"No! My son and I go together or neither of us!"

"You are priority Colonel Shortman! We will protect your son until another helicopter arrives." Miles looked over at Arnold, next to his friends and the other soldier.

Miles looked the soldier dead in the eyes, "You fail that promise, and I will not rest until I see you in a chair with a needle in your arm."

"I promise sir." The solder replied as he filed both Stella and Miles onto the chopper.

Just then, the skyline window busted open and zombies began spewing out onto the rooftop, charging at Arnold.

Arnold woke up for good this time, the truck had stopped, Stinky struggled to get it started again, "Truck's dead, outta gas." Stinky said. Everyone sat in their seats in silence, "Any ideas?" he said.

Arnold looked out the window, "Hey, left side, look!" Everybody turned to look down a dark alley. On the other side they could see a dim lit street. The only building they could see had big red text on the front with a bumblebee next to it. Arnold could make out the text to read, "Bumborn Junior High – PS 220".

"What makes you think we'll stand a chance in there?" Harold asked.

"The lights are on." Arnold said.

"Barely." Eugene chimed in.

"Come on, maybe there's gasoline, or shelter, it could be sealed up pretty tight." Arnold said. Everyone sat in silence again and pondered.

"I already outran one horde and survived. Let's go for two." Harold said sarcastically.

The group slowly hopped out of the truck, leaving their doors open to avoid noise. Eugene reached back into the truck to grab the food they still had. Stinky grasped the leather belt that held his shotgun to his back.

"No point in sneaking, if we run, we can make it there before we're even noticed."

"That's at least five hundred feet Arnold." Stinky said.

"Got any better ideas?" Arnold said. Stinky shut his mouth.

"Ready?" Arnold said. The heart beats of the group almost pounded together synchronously. Arnold turned to his left, a zombie staggered out from behind a trash can and turned its head, grunting as it caught site of the boys. It sneered and growled loudly, "Run!"

Quickly, the boys dashed down the alley, they came out the other side and only slowed down slightly when they noticed the new street they came out on had a bit more "traffic". At least twenty zombies were there and they all caught site of the group, "Keep going!" Arnold cried.

They quickly ran up the stairs to the front doors of the school. Arnold began pounding and everybody else joined in.

The zombies began to sprint closer and closer, Arnold continued to pound. He caught a whiff of a foul smell, something familiar, almost from his dreams. Just then, the doors burst open. A masked figure came out, a bucket in his hand and tossed it on the boys, covering them all in green slop. All of a sudden, the sprinting monsters stopped at the foot of the stairs. The foul odor had blocked their scent.

"Walk in slowly; don't make any sudden movements, smooth like a cat burglar." The masked figure said. His voice sounded extremely familiar to Arnold, like that of a close friend.

The group entered and the masked figure shut the door behind them. He turned back around, "Well, let's see what we got here. We got one, two, three, four chumps, looking like swamp monsters, still hanging around Hillwood with flesh eating monsters and not a single method of beating them." The figure said. He dropped the bucket and grabbed his mask, slowly peeling it off to reveal a dark skin colored face and black curly hair.

Arnold and his group stared in exciting shock at Gerald's face, "Bet you boys missed this handsome devil now didn't ya." Gerald said, "Welcome to PS 220, your new home." Gerald said with a smile.

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To Be Continued


	5. The Hand that Holds the Strings

_**Hey Zombies**_

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Episode 5 - The Hand that Holds the Strings

The zombie waltzed around inside its cell. It stared in all directions trying to figure out where it was. Out of the corner of its eye, came a black suited figure. The creature slammed against the wall, attempting to attack its newfound prey but the glass kept it from doing otherwise. The man was very stout and tall, in a black suit, latex gloves on his hands. His glasses reflected the light from the ceiling. The rays bounced off his glasses and reflected in the glass barrier between him and the captured zombie.

The man stared at his subject for a moment, bringing a hand up to stroke the whiskers on his chin, "Any development?" He asked. To his left sat a white coated male looking at flickering lights on a dim computer screen.

"Nothing but signs of starvation." The scientist responded, "If at all possible, we could give it another dose?"

"No, keep the subject potent. We're not ready to start the cure synthesis." The man in black responded.

He exited the room, leaving the scientist to continue entering data in on his computer while the zombified human continued to slam against the windows, desperate to attack. The man in black walked down the brightly lit hallway and turned a corner. He walked up to the second door on his left and entered, the letters on the front read "Cell B2".

The man walked inside, pulled out the chair on his side of the table and sat down. He crossed his hands and laid them on the table. Across from the man in black was Miles Shortman, hands cuffed to two rings stuck on the table, "Now, are we finally going to have that talk I've mentioned?" Miles lifted his head and slightly shuffled his cuffed hands.

"You tell me, do I look ready?" Miles said. Then out of nowhere, he lurched forward and spat a big wad on the arms of the man in black.

The man, disgusted yet amused, pulled a white handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped his arms, "Colonel Shortman, I wish I could be blunter and clearer when I say I mean no harm to you or your family. But I don't know how else I can convince you we're doing the right thing."

Miles moved his jaw and grunted in pain, "Yeah, death, bringing death to innocent people. Causing chaos around the world? Yeah, that's the right thing for sure." Miles said as he coughed.

"It's more an exploration Miles. Understand that it's change, a new evolution of the world as we saw it and changing it to something new." The two sat in silence, "So whatdya say Miles?" The man leaned in closer, "Let's start talking."

Miles looked up at him, and took a breath in, "Fuck. You."

The man scrunched his chin in disappointment and looked off to the side. He leaned straight again, "We'll talk later then. Until then, your wife's keeping our subject company."

Miles instantly snapped, snapping his arms forward and reaching for the man's hairy neck, ready to wring him to death, but the struggle ended up sending him toppling off his chair to the floor, his arms yanked by the chain holding them to the table. As he struggled, he continued to shout.

"VICTOR YOU BASTARD!"

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July 19, 2012 – Two weeks after initial outbreak

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Gerald led Arnold and his group down the candlelit hallway, zombies continued to slam against the front door, but to no avail.

"This is incredible Gerald! You secured this whole school by yourself?" Arnold said in excitement.

"Well not entirely. I had a little help." Gerald said. As they talked, a glasses clad girl with black hair and a blue v-neck came out of one of the classrooms.

"Arnold? Harold?" the girl said with a bright smile.

"There's our brains." Gerald said with a smirk. The girl ran up to Arnold and wrapped him in a vicious hug.

"You had me freaked out! When I saw the chopper over your house go down, my heart dropped! I'm so glad you're alive!" The girl continued to say. She gave tight warm hugs to the rest of Arnold's group.

"Glad to see you made it too Phoebe." Arnold said, his voice heart-warming and comforting for the group.

"Where's our little scout?" Gerald asked.

"Still looking after Hyunh's arm." Phoebe replied. She led the group to the room. Arnold entered and saw his good friend Tai Hyunh sitting on top of a desk, one arm down at his side, and the other in the hands of a boy wearing a long light blue shirt, his hair pulled downwards into a bowl. The boy gently set Hyunh's arm down.

"Arnold! You made it!" The boy said as he ran to embrace Arnold.

"I sure did, still going strong, right chocolate boy?" Arnold said.

"Sure am. By the way, the name's Charlie now." The boy replied.

"Giving up the nick name Chuck?" Stinky asked.

"No, just finally growing up." Charlie said with a smile.

"Arnold, good to see you again!" said a high pitched voice from the corner. Arnold turned to see Oscar Kokashka sitting against the wall, "I can't believe you made it out of that madness at the boarding house." Oscar said.

"I was lucky, I had a few friends to help me out." Arnold said, looking back to Harold, Stinky, and Eugene.

"Yes! Very lucky! Hard to believe you're still alive!" Hyunh said.

"Good to see you too Mr. Hyunh." Arnold said with a bright smile, he turned back to Gerald, "Is it all of you?" He asked.

"It's just us." Gerald said. Phoebe looked at Gerald with a sense of confusion, almost as if Gerald had hid something in his response. Gerald looked at her and continued to explain.

"Phoebe and I were at the movies down the street when this mess happened, there was nowhere we could go that was empty, till we found PS 220. Went inside and locked it up no questions asked. About a day later, your family Oscar and Hyunh here showed up at the front door and Charlie snuck in from the top. Thankfully I didn't have my rifle since I didn't recognize him without chocolate smeared all over his face." He joked.

"And you've been here for two weeks?" Eugene piped in.

"With no issues," Gerald bragged, "The school's generators have been keeping us warm, the lights can turn on, albeit a bit dim. And the cafeteria's food is still good, as far as I know." Gerald said, his eyes looking to the side.

"Gee, we should've come here sooner." Stinky joked.

"Come on Arnold. You guys stay here, I'll show Arnold where you'll be bunking." Gerald took Arnold out into the hallway, "You four can stay in room seventeen down there." Gerald pointed.

Arnold stopped him mid walk, "Gerald. Thank you, for everything, you still haven't let me down. Think I've lost count of how many debts I owe you." He said.

"No need Arnold. I've been there through the thick and thin, we were together from the start and we will be there together at the finish. You guys are safe here."

"Thanks Gerald." Arnold said. He continued to look into Gerald's eyes, he wanted to ask the million dollar question. Gerald knew it, and he didn't know how to tell him the truth.

"Did you see her?" Arnold spoke.

"I did in fact. During the evacuations a couple choppers went down, I didn't think anybody survived. But two days after the outbreak, she showed up, said she and her dad were in one of the choppers with your parents." Arnold's eyes widened, "Apparently it went down and when she came to, her dad and your parents were gone. No blood, no signs of attack."

"Which could mean-"

"Which could mean anything, Arnold. We can only know in time. Knowing your parents and what they've put up with in San Lorenzo, it's a given they're still alive. Maybe more troops came and picked them up."

"Maybe." Arnold replied sullenly, "But where is she now?" He asked again.

"There's no easy way to say it, she went missing too, about three days ago. There's a hunting lodge about a block away from here, it's our storage for supplies. We usually make a run there about every three days or so, but she made one unscheduled. Went out on her own. She was smart enough to take a walkie with her and we tried to get her back. We communicated for a while but then we started to hear a struggle. Last thing we could get out of her was the name 'Willie'. Before we knew it, she was out of range. No sign of her since."

Arnold drooped his head, collapsing against the wall, he let his back slide down against the wall till he hit the floor. His parents and now the love of his life, missing. Gerald came to his side and slumped down beside him, "Hey, don't worry. It's just like her to do things by her own book, she can handle herself."

"It can't be that easy, not for a situation like this. She may be tough, but I've seen her get scared. When Bob needed that kidney transplant, she came over and held me for hours, couldn't let go." Arnold responded. Gerald sat there in silence, acknowledging Arnold's pain, "I just wish we could go back to the way things were. I wasn't ready for something like this."

"Ten years is not enough time to get your life back man." said Gerald, "She'll be fine. I know it. For all we know zombies cut her off and she could only run the other way."

"Sure. That's exactly it." Arnold's optimism started to kick in, yet he still remained worried.

"Come on bud, lemme show you something." Gerald patted Arnold on the shoulder and the two stood up. Gerald took Arnold to a flight of stairs and walked up to the second floor of the school. Down the hall, Gerald entered a classroom on the corner, Arnold followed.

"This is the biochemistry room they had. Also the room with the most windows." Gerald said as they walked in.

"More windows means more exposure." Arnold said.

"However, we hardly come in here, the real use for this room is right over there." Gerald pointed to a small brown box on a table next to rotting plants. A small metal rod stuck out from the box and leaned against the large window.

Arnold walked up to it and leaned in, he could hear a gentle hum, "It's a radio?"

"Better, a transmitter. We've had a looping message being transmitted out about ten, fifteen miles at least."

"Does it work?" Arnold asked.

"Well it brought chocolate boy in. As sneaky as he was, we hardly saw him coming. We're just hoping the military guys are still out there looking for survivors. You guys brought the only action we've had since Oscar and Hyunh showed up."

Arnold's eyes widened, he barged out of the room and Gerald followed in hot pursuit, calling after him, "Wait! Arnold where are you going!"

Arnold stormed back into the classroom where Oscar and Hyunh were recuperating, "Mr. Kokashka, where's your wife?"

"She was on the other chopper with your parents Arnold. Why do you ask?" Oscar replied.

Arnold turned back to Gerald, "You said Helga woke up unconscious after the crash right? Did she say anything about Suzie Kokashka?"

Gerald thought for a moment, "Yeah, matter of fact she remembered seeing another woman on the chopper with her, she was gone too when she woke up."

"Four adults missing but the only survivor, a young adult, was left behind. It doesn't add up." Arnold said.

"What're you saying man?" Gerald asked.

"I'm saying someone picked up my parents, Mr. Pataki, and Mrs. Kokashka and left Helga for dead." Arnold said, strong determination and suspicion in his voice.

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Miles grunted with pain as he straightened himself in the chair. A throbbing pain shot through his backside and he looked to his left. The two sided mirror reflected his scratched up face. On the other side stood Victor, the man in black, his arms crossed behind his back and he observed Miles. He turned around and walked out. He re-entered the cell block and strolled down the hallway. "Hey! Glasses!" said a rough booming voice. The man turned and looked into the cell with the source of the voice, "Ya gonna explain to me why I'm locked in here?"

Victor stood straight, "For your protection. We need research subjects."

"Research subjects my ass! I want answers, first chaos erupts on my own street, and next thing I know I'm in a chopper going down hard, and by the time I'm awake, I'm in a god damn cell with my daughter nowhere to be found! Now are you gonna tell me things! Or am I gonna have to stand up and drag you in here with me through these narrow bars." The prisoner growled.

"Mr. Pataki, right? I assure you, this is a controlled environment, we are merely problem solvers figuring out what is happening to our nation. This pandemic as you would call it is something we are trying to solve. All we ask is your patience and cooperation." The man in black said as he continued to stroll down the hallway.

"I've got your cooperation right here." Bob Pataki mumbled as his hand gripped his groin area.

"Wish I was as abrupt as you." A womanly voice uttered. Bob looked toward the cell diagonal from his own.

"Who's there?" Bob asked.

"In time, we will get our answers but at a price, I'm sure of it." The voice said, Bob could sense the feminine tone.

"Come on, cut the Shakespeare and show me your face lady." Bob said. In a moment, the woman scuttled from her sitting spot over to the cell bars and put her face right up to the space between the metal. It was Suzie Kokashka.

"Hey, you look familiar, didn't you live with that Arnie kid Helga was always talking about?"

"I did, my husband and, yes. God knows what my husband is doing now. Probably thinks I'm already dead and scavenging for his own life." Suzie said bitterly.

"At least you've got hope your husband is still out there…" Bob uttered, his voice turned melancholy and Miriam's beautiful face stuck to his brain's eye. He'd never see her again.

"I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"I'm Bob Pataki." Bob replied.

"Pataki, your daughter's name is Helga right?" Suzie asked.

"That's right."

"Arnold was always talking about her. Pretty sure she was over at least three times a week, for ten years. Don't think Arnold went a second without thinking of her."

"Yeah I remember all the times we had to take care of her dates. Proms, Homecomings. It was a crazy time." Bob said, a small smile erupting on his face.

"That's love for you Bob. Anything you did, you did together." Suzie said.

"Miriam wasn't always like that with me, took us a few years to straighten out but we started doing ok. Can't tell you how much I miss her, with all the chaos happening out there now." Bob said

"I certainly hope Helga and Arnold are doing okay. Better than Oscar I hope." Suzie said.

"Oscar? As in your husband? Oscar Kokashka?"

"Yeah? You remember him?" Suzie asked.

Bob replied, "That bastard owes me twenty bucks!"

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Three days later

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The playground was bare, a large wooden fence bordered the whole field, connecting to the sides of the school. Charlie held his slingshot with tension, his shoulders were broad and raised up so high, almost out of their sockets. Gerald came up to him, "Easy on the tension choco boy. Relax your shoulders and focus on your aim."

"Quit calling me choco boy Gerald. I keep telling you, it's Charlie."

"Ok Chuckie, whatever, hit the target and I'll stop with the name calling." Gerald jested. Charlie took a deep breath and released his grip. The projectile flew across the grass and struck the bottle, shattering the top of it. The remnants topped over off the barrel into the grass. Gerald stood there, stunned as Charlie swung the empty sling in his hand, "Impressive." Gerald uttered.

Charlie pocketed his sling and grabbed the bag of his homemade ammo, airsoft beads glued together into solid pieces with super glue, "How many of those you got left?" Gerald asked.

"This bag and another inside, maybe about a hundred total. We ought to get more bbs on our next trip to the hunting store." Charlie said.

"Yeah maybe." Gerald said, patting Charlie on the shoulder. They entered the school, Gerald closed the door behind them and slid the metal rod back between the door handles. Then a noise drew their attention. They started to follow the reverberations of the noise till it led them to the cafeteria. It was like chewing sounds, grunting and gnawing biting noises.

"Wait here." Gerald ordered. Charlie nodded and leaned against the wall, gripping his slingshot tightly. The crunching noises gave Gerald more fear but he courageously approached the door.

All of a sudden, Eugene turned around the corner, "Hey Gerald-question about the truck outsi-" Gerald silenced Eugene before he could talk anymore and beckoned him to go over by Charlie.

Gerald inched closer and closer to the door until his hand could reach the handle. He settled his palm against the metallic door and gave it a good shove. It slid right open, and Gerald peaked inside. He followed the trail of the noise and saw a balding figure at one of the tables. His head moving in quivers, and what looked like crumbs fell to the floor.

"Oscar! What're you doing!" Gerald cried out as he recognized the figure.

Oscar whipped his head around, mouth full of sustenance. Eugene and Charlie came inside and saw the can. It was a large ounce can of trail mix, popped wide open and crumbs all around the table where Oscar sat, "Oscar! What're you doing getting in the supply?" Gerald erupted.

"I'm sorry Gerald. It was tempting after I had lost my ration. I just wanted to get my fill for the day." Oscar said with a conniving chuckle."

"We have to have food for the rest of us Oscar! We were supposed to save everything for another week! How many times have you snuck in here?"

"Only now, this was my only one!" Oscar said instantly, a bit of nervousness in his voice that Gerald could pick up. Oscar than drooped his head a little, "I've been coming in here for the last two days. This is the last trail mix left. This and a bag of rice."

Gerald threw his head back in anger and scrunched his fists against the cafeteria wall, "I'm sorry Gerald. I was only trying to survive."

Gerald instantly got in his face, slamming his hands on the table, "Surviving doesn't mean being a pretentious selfish asshole!" He screamed. Gerald whipped his head back around and stormed out of the room. Eugene and Charlie looked at him disappointedly then followed Gerald out, leaving Oscar sitting in the dim light of the large room. The silence started to fill Oscar's head with a low drumming moan. For a second, Suzie popped into his head.

"Charlie, find Hyunh and look at his arm again. Eugene, what'd you wanna tell me." Gerald said very blatantly.

"I wanted to know if the humvee was good for a run to the hunting shop." Eugene said.

"You don't need me for that, check on it yourself." Gerald snapped. Eugene turned and walked down the other hallway. Charlie followed. Gerald walked into the classroom where Arnold slept to find him rolling up his sleeping bag, "Arnold that Oscar guy is something else. I don't know how you put up with him all your life."

"Took some getting used to Gerald. What'd he do this time?" Arnold asked.

"Turns out, for the last few days he's been going strong on sneaking into our food supply. We only have half a can of trail mix and a pound of rice left." Gerald responded. Arnold stopped and stood up to look at Gerald.

"That can't be."

"Oh but it can and will be brother. We need to do something now or we're gonna have trouble here."

"I would say we're already in trouble." Arnold responded, "Seems like we've got bigger headaches."

"What do you mean?" Gerald asked worriedly.

Arnold lead Gerald down to the basement floor. They walked down the long main corridor and entered the door at the end of it, to an even deeper floor where the furnace and complex maintenance facilities were housed. Gerald looked in pure shock at what Arnold had to show him. Before them were two black boxes, one was purely still and the other was still vibrating and humming.

"We lost one of our backups, it croaked out sometime around noon." Arnold said.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Gerald said, rubbing his hands down his face in stress.

"At this rate, we're gonna be out of energy in two days. No heat or light, and all the gas will be burnt out."

"So what do we do?" Gerald said.

"Something crazy I had in mind." Arnold said.

"Oh no Arnold, not another one of your bold plans." Gerald groaned.

"What else are we gonna do? Listen, we've got the humvee and your car out back. Stinky's truck is right outside the school. We can grab all that we have, take the cars, and head west." Arnold suggested.

"Arnold what on earth makes you think we're not gonna find the same chaos here out west?" Gerald asked frantically.

"It's worth a shot. Maybe they stopped the spread. Maybe there's towns sealed off or quarantined. From what my parents told me, this thing started on the east coast in one of the FTi labs there. Hillwood wasn't even the beginning, by the time it hit us, all the north eastern states had been marked as infected. From there it just kept spreading west. Maybe Future Tech figured something out and they have places for survivors to stay."

"It's insane Arnold, we'd have to drive miles. Who knows how far we can get with the gas we have now."

"It's a chance we'd have to take. Here, we're good as dead, but if we take a chance, and move, we could find others. Helga, Rhonda, Sid, we all had a chance to evacuate, and that's exactly what they did. Let's start our own evacuation."

Gerald stood there, pondering. He clicked his tongue a couple times and looked in a few different directions. "Nine people, three cars, two pistols, a shotgun, and a rifle. Potentially millions of zombies out to eat us and kill all of mankind, facing gruesome death even while stuck in here, and those chances inevitably go up if we do this."

"Exactly." Arnold said, a devious little smile on his face.

"You're a bold kid Arnold. Let's do it."

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To be continued


	6. Exodus

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Chapter 6 - Exodus_

July 23, 2012 – Three weeks after initial outbreak

Arnold, Eugene, Stinky, Harold, Gerald, Hyunh, Oscar, Charlie, and Phoebe huddled around a single classroom desk, each either leaning against a desk behind them, or standing straight with their legs crossed. Arnold's eyes darted from left to right in the group, "It's either we do this, and find hope to survive, or we stay here, and die slowly. Who's first?"

Silence continued to fill the room, a howling wind hit the windows, rattling them slightly, "Who wants to draw first." Arnold asked. On the desk in the middle of the circle, was a matchbox. Inside were several matches, and only three were burnt. Whoever pulled the three burnt matches were obligated to embark on a journey to the hunting shop to gather all supplies they can carry, including the emergency gas tanks that Gerald had stored there for the Humvee they had in the back.

"I will." Said Hyunh.

"Mr. Hyunh, you have a broken arm, all you'd carry is a pistol you won't stand a chance." Arnold said.

"Arnold, my boy I'm surviving as much as you are, when it's life or death, we all have same chance." Hyunh responded. He reached in, his head turned the other way, grabbed a match and pulled it out. He let his breath loose when he saw the match head was still clean and red.

"Sit down Hyunh, you ain't goin nowhere." Gerald said. Hyunh backed away from the circle, a hand on his forehead in disappointment. Eugene pulled next, followed by Stinky, then Harold was up next. He began to reach for the match and then backed away. An image of his own corpse lying on the asphalt shot through his head, followed by Rhonda standing over it in tears. Words could not express how much Harold missed her-

"Come on Harold. You need to draw." Arnold said. Harold snapped out of his nightmare and grabbed a match, it was clean as well. Oscar approached the box and reached in, he shuffled around the match sticks hoping for a clean one. He pulled one out and looked in horror to see a black burnt end in his hand. It still felt warm.

"Looks like we've got number one." Stinky said. Oscar backed away.

"Can I have a redraw please?" Oscar asked fearfully.

"We all got one chance Mr. Kokashka, it's only fair." Arnold said.

"But it's too dark and far out there. I don't want to die in a dark place." Oscar said.

"Oscar! Don't be a coward. It's time you faced the dark!" Hyunh erupted.

"He's right Mr. Kokashka. We have to do this for the sake of all of us. Please?" Arnold said.

"I won't do it. I don't want to die to those creeps out there." Everybody was shocked in silence at Oscar's rebuttle.

"Mr. Kokashka…" Arnold uttered disappointedly.

"I'm sorry Arnold. I want to live." Oscar replied. Dismissive by his stubbornness, Gerald approached him. He snatched the burnt match out of his hand.

"Then I'm number one." Gerald said, he gave one last look at Oscar and mumbled under his breath, loud enough for Oscar to hear, "Czech bastard."

Phoebe began to approach the box. Gerald watched her in slight nervousness, "Not you Phoebe." Arnold said. Phoebe's arm began to recede but her forehead started to scrunch.

"I'm quite able of taking care of myself Arnold. This retrieval business won't be a problem." She snatched a match from the box. It was clean. Gerald sighed with relief and pulled her in by the shoulder. She reciprocated with leaning her head on his chest, staring at the burnt match in Gerald's hand.

"I'll go next." Arnold said, he leaned in, shuffled the pile, and pulled one out. He sighed and said, "Number two." As he tucked the burnt match into his pocket, "Charlie." He said, looking at Charlie, his hands rubbing together in nervousness. There were only two matches left.

Charlie slowly walked forward, reached in, selected one match and slowly pulled it out. He moaned in somberness as he saw the burnt end. His legs started to shake, fingers pinching the match in his hand tighter. Gerald put Phoebe aside and walked up to him, "It's ok Charlie. We're gonna look after you. Arnold and I, we promise." Gerald said, he looked at Arnold, waiting for Arnold to chime in.

"Yeah Charlie. Stick with us, and you'll be just fine." Arnold said with assurance. Charlie sunk his head into Gerald's side, tears streaming out. Gerald turned, still holding Charlie, and burnt fire into Oscar's stomach with his eyes. His anger warmed his body and his forehead began to sweat.

Later, Charlie and Arnold were by the back door, checking their weapons: Stinky's shotgun, two Beretta pistols that Gerald snagged off a couple dead soldiers, as well as a fully loaded M4 carbine with two additional clips, thirty rounds each. In a classroom not far from them, Gerald held Phoebe in his arms tightly.

"I don't want this to happen." Phoebe murmured, her voice shaking.

"I know, but it has to be done. Arnold knows what he's doing." Gerald said as he stroked Phoebe's shoulder, comforting her with all his effort. He then took her away from his chest and looked into her eyes, Phoebe's arms still holding him by the waist, "Listen, we've stayed alive this long. There's still something we gotta do on God's green earth I bet. We're still around for a reason, and maybe it's to get you out of here." Gerald said, his mouth forming into a smile.

"Not your only reason. You're coming with me." Phoebe said jokingly, a big smile on her face. Gerald then pulled her in for another hug.

"You think Arnold's gonna find her out there?" Gerald said.

"Wherever she is, I know she's thinking the same. We'll find her, I know it." Phoebe said.

Charlie waltzed in on them, and knocked at the door, "Um Gerald, we're gonna be leaving soon." Gerald took a deep breath in through his nose, kissed Phoebe on the forehead and began to walk out.

"Gerald!" Phoebe called. Gerald stopped at the door and turned back, "Be careful, for your sake and mine." She said. Gerald smirked.

"Always am."

Soon, Gerald, Arnold, and Charlie were loaded. Everybody else was camped by the door, each with a bag of some sort in their hand, with all the supplies they had left in the school, as well as blunt objects. Arnold and Charlie stood by as Gerald held the chain that walled them from the beings outside, "Alright, you guys got the plan. We're gonna be out there half an hour tops and then we'll be heading back. If we're not back at the thirty five minute mark, you guys run for the Humvee and get the hell away from here. Got it?"

Most of the group nodded in agreement, "Let's do this. Eugene start the time." Gerald ordered. Eugene looked at his digital watch, and pushed a button. The 0:00 clock started to tick in black digitized letters. Gerald thrust open the door and went out, Arnold and Charlie followed. Harold stood by and closed the door. He picked up the chain and pulled it tightly, walking back to his spot on the wall, and slowly fell to the ground. Phoebe continued to stand, her thumbs rubbing consistently and palms soaked with sweat.

Outside, the foul air crept up on the trio standing right outside the doors. It was extra cloudy. The sky glowed a faint blue, more grey than any other color. Stenches of death and rot filled their noses as the three slowly trotted down the steps toward the backyard of the school. The field was bare. Glass from the bottle Charlie shattered earlier that day strewn across the gravel.

"We have to move, we've got a bit of a walk to the hunting store." Gerald said. He cocked the shotgun in his hands and they began their journey.

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Bob rubbed his heel against the ground, one hand he had on his hip and the other was scratching an itch on the back of his neck. He clicked his tongue once and breathed in through his nose. He looked out over his shoulder through the cell bars and saw the hall, vacant. Across, he could see Suzie's feet, tapping against each other and her heavy breathing.

"Doing alright Suzie?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, just nervous. You think we're gonna get out of here?" Suzie asked.

"I couldn't tell ya. If they've got Helga somewhere else locked up, I'd be damned if they were doing something to her. You remember seeing the other chopper go down?"

"Hardly, I heard the explosion and last thing I saw was a big rotor colliding into the school. I know Oscar and the other boarders were on it. Next thing I knew, the guy next to me was gnawing into the pilot's neck and we crashed ourselves." Suzie responded.

"It's a regular B-horror movie garbage fest out there. Never thought these things could be real." Bob said.

"It's possible. The human body can live for some time even after death, in some sense, the body can be its own fuel source. Whatever started this, it's easy to spread. I saw on the tv an outbreak in Pennsylvania. People biting other people, they fall down and get back up in seconds. Scary thoughts."

"What're you? A nurse or something?"

"Nursing school, I had a couple classes."

All of a sudden, the door opened. Victor, the man in black, strolled up to Bob's cell, and a guard donned in a grey jumpsuit and clasps of armor was with him, "You need to come with us." The man said, assuredly.

"Like hell I am. Give me answers and then I'll consider helping you guys out." Bob said sternly. Without a blink, the guard popped Bob in the side with a cattle prod. The shock sent Bob to the floor. Quickly, the soldier unlocked the cell door and the man walked inside. Both grabbed Bob by his shoulders and legs and began to hoist him out.

"Where are you taking him?" Suzie asked, her voice panicked. The two ignored her and continued to carry Bob's body down the hall, "What are you doing to him?!"

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The door was only a few feet away. Gerald, Charlie, and Arnold were lined up at the front entrance to the hunting shop. Gerald gripped the shotgun tight in his hands. Arnold had the rifle slung over his shoulder and one of the pistols in his hand. Charlie held the other, and in his shorts pocket was his slingshot and the other pocket held a bag of his ammo.

"Got the key?" Arnold asked. Gerald rummaged through his pockets and found a small metallic key for the door to their supplies in the shop.

"Ok, let's make this quick and easy." Gerald said. He decided to go first, he inched closer to the door. One hand held the shotgun, finger on the trigger, and the other moved closer to the doorknob. With ease, Gerald grasped it, turned it and pushed the door inward, creaking the hinges with every inch it rotated. Slowly but surely, the trio stepped inside. The shop was very long and narrow. From the front to the back was a lengthy fourty feet. Off to the side was a set of stairs that led up to the upper floor which hung over their heads about ten feet. In the center of the ceiling was a large opening where the contents of the upper floor could be vaguely seen. Upstairs was where they had to go to get their gas.

"I'll get up there and get what we need. You two stay down here and watch for any walkers outside or inside. Charlie's heart started to race when Gerald said 'inside'.

"Gerald! Here." Arnold said, he tossed his pistol to Gerald who snatched it out of the air, "Little extra protection. Be careful up there."

"Don't yell if you need me. Find something and tap the ceiling with it, I'll hear ya." Gerald responded. He stuck the pistol in the back of his pants and held the shotgun with both hands, working his way up the stairs. Charlie and Arnold began to rummage the downstairs area.

"Never took a good look at what this place had." Arnold said. He looked over and saw the fishing wall, several rods still lined up neatly with a few out of place or on the floor. Charlie walked up beside him, "I remember fishing with my grandpa. Gerald and I went out to get Big Caesar on the lake. Things were simple back then weren't they. You had your chocolate addiction." Arnold looked to Charlie and smiled.

"I know. I'm surprised I'm still alive after that. Those hospital visits for withdrawal after I quit scared me too." Charlie responded.

"Instantly changing your diet like that is gonna cause problems regardless. But you were young, it's ok. Be thankful nothing bad came out of it before or after you quit." Arnold said, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie looked up and smiled.

Upstairs, Gerald slowly moved forward, the floor creaking with every step. He looked across the room and eyeballed the storage room he was going for. Several shelves stood in his way and he had to make his path around them. Without paying attention, Gerald bumped into a shelf with his knee and a pile of empty snack boxes came crashing to the floor. Almost as if the sound was on stereo, it sent waves through the entire shop. Charlie and Arnold looked up, still staying silent but hoping Gerald wasn't in trouble. No sounds of struggle or pain gave them the sign that Gerald was still ok.

Gerald bit his lip for a second and regained his bearings. He continued to waltz around the shelf. Eventually, he made it to the storage room. He rummaged his pocket again, pulled out the key, and slowly inserted it into the lock hole. After torquing it, the door was unlocked. Gerald put the key away and grabbed the doorknob. He rotated it, and gave it a good pull. The door slid open with ease.

Out of nowhere, a dead body came sliding off the door and fell right on top of Gerald.

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At the school, Phoebe paced back and forth out of nervousness and impatience. It has been twenty minutes. Fifteen more till departure.

"Phoebe, I know they're okay. Just relax alright?" Eugene said.

"Yeah, your constant pitter pattering feet are startin' to get on my nerves." Stinky added.

Phoebe snapped, "You don't know that Eugene. Gerald could be dead and we'd be waiting for nothing."

"It's thirty five minutes, we know that. They know that."

"If we have to leave without them, it's what we're going to have to do." Oscar said, standing against a classroom entrance.

"Oscar shut up! If it wasn't for you, Gerald wouldn't be out there right now." Phoebe cried.

Oscar looked at her obliviously, shocked at her anger and his eyes widened. A sudden shock of melancholy took Oscar over and he went down the hall to the stair well. Phoebe walked back to the wall and fell against it. Harold, meanwhile, came through the door, an empty bucket in his hand. He had finished pouring slop on the Humvee to cover up their scent when they escape. Eugene and Stinky sat in silence, side by side to the left, and Harold saw Phoebe on the right, her head in her arms, afraid that she could lose more loved ones in the hours to come.

Harold set the bucket down quietly and walked over to Phoebe, he kneeled down and wrapped her in a tight hug, "It's going to be ok Phoebe." Phoebe looked at him and returned his hug. Oscar saw this and began to walk up the stairs. He strolled down the empty hallway and into one of the classrooms. He waltzed over to the window and looked outward, a bit further out in the dense fog and dim orange sky losing brightness and day turning to night, he could see the hunting store. He himself started to hope the three would come back soon.

Then a rattling drew his attention away from the store and he turned around. The room was still empty. He turned back to see a zombie a foot away from him, looking through the glass, ready to lunge. Oscar stepped back as the zombie snarled, pounced through the glass and lunged at him.

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Gerald stepped away from the body. The loud thump of the corpse hitting the ground drew Charlie and Arnold's attention and they dashed upstairs, "What happened?" Arnold asked.

"This fucking guy came spewing out of the storage room!" Gerald replied angrily, his hands shaking.

Charlie examined, the body's skin was pale brown, blood ran from the open gash in the forehead and soaked into its blue buttoned shirt. It also had on blue cargo shorts. The body itself was plush and a bit chubby, "It's Harvey…" Arnold said in horror.

"No no, it can't be. Harvey the mail man? Now a corpse miles away from Hillwood, are you kidding me!?" Gerald said in shock.

"Gerald be quiet! We've got a job to do, let's do it and get out now." Arnold whispered loudly. Gerald grunted and stepped over Harvey's body into the closet. Arnold tossed him a duffle bag and Gerald loaded it with what was left in the closet, a couple boxes of crackers and a 12 pack of Yahoo soda. He passed the bag back to Arnold, shouldered the shotgun and he grabbed the two gasoline tanks in the corner, both with ten gallons of gas in them.

"Let's get out of here." Gerald said, the three started to make their way to the stairs when Arnold stopped them.

"Wait," he said, looking to Harvey's body, "We should say something."

"Come on Arnold, he's been resting in peace for some time now. I don't think a few words is gonna make his soul any more comfortable."

"It's out of respect Gerald. We need to do it now. Come on." Arnold said, he set down the bag and walked back over to the body. Gerald set down the tanks and took off his shotgun. Arnold and Charlie did the same, they bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Gerald reluctantly left his eyes wandering out of impatience.

"God, we hope you look over Harvey. Seeing how he went is a sight no human being should ever see." As Arnold continued to pray, Gerald peaked at Harvey's head and the wound that split his cheek from the rest of his face. He knelt down and looked closer, "Gerald, what are you doing?"

"Hold up Arnold, this doesn't look like a regular bite. The cut's too fine for teeth to gnaw into." Gerald said.

"So?" Arnold said.

"So. Harvey wasn't killed by no simple zeke. This is something different." He said. Arnold looked closer and saw where Gerald was coming from.

"You're right, come on let's get out of here. We've got maybe ten minutes left." The three grabbed their stuff again and walked down the stairs. Lighting started to flash the interior of the shop and thunder followed closely. A storm was brewing.

Arnold, leading the pack looked back up past Gerald and Charlie to the upper floor, pondering if anything was forgotten. Gerald then screamed and it startled the whole group. They all fell backwards on the stairs and tumbled forward to the ground. They looked up and saw what scared Gerald. In the front doorway, stood a tall man, lanky body and a white jacket looking top was on his body as well as pale white looking slacks. His skin was darkishly tan and eyes beamed with black brownish color. In his hands was a long wooden rod and on the end was a large axe with streaks of red on the end of it. The figure stepped inside and stared at the three. Arnold got a good look of his face.

"Willie?" Arnold said, "Willy the Jolly Olly man?"

"Hello boys." The figure said, very solemnly and an utter sense of terror in his voice.

"It is you Willie! You're alive!" Gerald said happily.

"I most certainly am." Willie replied, his voice almost sadistically moaning.

"Where have you been? Marty Green said you were with him then you took off. You okay?" Gerald asked. Arnold then flashed back to when Gerald told him about Helga's whereabouts, and how the last thing Helga could radio in was Willie's name. He started to realize what Willie could have done.

"You boys don't seem to be too shabbish yourselves." Willie continued to moan.

"What've you done Willie." Arnold said, slowly putting the pieces together, Helga's message, the wound on Harvey's face.

"Whatever do you mean?" Willie asked. The boys started to get up slowly.

"Helga. She was in here and you tried to kill her didn't you. What'd you do." Arnold said, intimidating.

"Oh that little bitch. You're lucky she got away with her life."

"Willie, what're you talkin man? Are you crazy?" Gerald asked.

Willie sighed, he continued to inch forward, "What makes you think I could be crazy." He said, his voice raised.

"Willie just take it easy, we're just getting the last of our supplies and we'll be on our way." Arnold said.

" _Your_ supplies? What makes you think _anything_ in this place is _YOURS!"_ Willie said, "Just because you said so? I think NOT!" Willie started to shout.

"Willie, keep quiet, they're gonna find us!" Charlie uttered.

"They? They?! They are not going to find me. They're going to find you, and you are going to be their meal!" Willie said. He raised the axe but he didn't aim at the boys, he swung to his right and smashed the axe into the glass window. The impact echoed down the streets. Several walkers strolling across the sidewalk turned their heads toward the noise and saw Willie standing in the doorway.

"Willie what the fuck is your problem?!" Gerald asked frantically.

"Come and get it my babies!" Willie cried. He smashed the axe against the door and then on the shelf to his left. The noise echoed down the streets as several infected turned their heads. He spun the axe in his hand and looked at the boys now standing and flinching with his every move, "Why shouldn't I get in on the fun? Take a piece of each of you boys myself!" He cried, charging at them with the axe raised high. The three split, Charlie ran straight back, Gerald ran back to the stairs, and Arnold hit the corner against the shattered glass window. Snarling infected started to zero in on the hunting shop and got closer and closer, catching the scent of the four terrified refugees and the psychotic ice cream man out to kill them.

Willie chose Arnold as his first target. He ran at him swinging but Arnold was quick enough to dodge each move. Gerald looked above the staircase and saw the window on the second floor. He quickly ran up to it, grabbed a chair and smashed it against the window. The shattered glass fell to the concrete sidewalk, some almost hit Arnold on the shoulder. Arnold got up quickly and ran for Charlie. Gerald came back to the stairs, and called for Arnold and Charlie.

"Guys! Up here!" Arnold dashed to his right, grabbed Charlie who was huddled in a corner, terrified, and they ran up the stairs. Arnold saw what Gerald had planned.

"Gerald that's nuts."

"It's only a few feet higher. Remember the Sewer king?" He asked. They approached the window and looked down. Zombies started to charge into the shop through the front door.

"We're trapped!" Charlie uttered.

"No we're not, come on Arnold, live or die?" Gerald asked. At that moment Willie came to the top of the stairs and saw them.

"Oh kiddies!" He called down to the infected who began spilling into the shop, "It's LUNCHTIME!"

He began to charge the guys but they each made their decision and leapt from the window. Charlie hit the ground too hard and the pistol in his hand flew from his grasp. Before he could grab it, Arnold pulled him up. They looked back at the shop, now fully in front of them and saw the zombies pouring up the stairs to where they once were on the second floor. Willie stood at the edge of the shattered window, "You're gonna die. You're all gonna dieeee!" Willie screeched, flailing the axe everywhere. Gerald saw some of the zombies that were still on the main floor turn around and noticed them standing in the middle of the street. They snarled and started to run at the group.

"Run!" Gerald cried.

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Rain started to pitter patter on the school rooftop. A roll of thunder had everybody at the back of the school looking up to listen to its eerie yet comforting noise. The world around them felt chaotic and it was a feeling that gave them dread.

Eugene looked at his watch, Gerald and his team had five minutes left till they departed. A loud slam drew their attention away from the door to look toward the stairwell. Quiet sounds of struggle sent shivers down their spine and they began to walk slowly toward the stairwell far down the hall.

"O-Oscar?" Phoebe uttered. There was silence. The grunting and struggling noises stopped. Harold walked forward.

"Wait here, I'll go see what's going on." He said as he walked toward the staircase. Eugene called his name but Harold did not respond and he continued to walk toward the stairwell.

Upstairs, a body laid limp on the ground, blood pouring out from its freshly opened wound. Standing over it was the tall figure of Oscar, with a metallic globe in his hand, red mucous smeared on one side. He dropped the blunt object to the floor and stepped over the corpse he had just sent back to its grave. Oscar than looked toward the classroom door when he heard a faint voice call his name.

Harold stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked back at the group and then back at the stairs. Oscar left the classroom and walked toward the stairs.

Suddenly a loud slam drew Harold and the others toward a classroom door that was between them. Another slam came after. Low growls were heard on the other side and then suddenly, the door burst open to reveal a pair of zombies with bloodied fists. They stepped over the shattered splintered door piece and examined their prey. They looked to their right and saw the group standing by the doorway and then at Harold to their left who was standing on the first step of the stairwell. One of them screeched and they began to charge after Phoebe and the others.

Eugene screamed in terror and Phoebe looked at the sealed up door. She knelt down, grabbed the baseball bat they had. "Stinky, get the door!" She hollered

As Stinky fumbled with the chain that sealed the door shut, Phoebe charged at the zombies. She raised the bat high in her hands and swung at the first zombie. The strike knocked its head to the side and it collided with the other, sending both to the floor in a daze. Phoebe was able to finish them off with a stomp of her foot.

"Harold come on!" She cried. Before Harold could make a run to their side, another zombie popped in through the classroom. Behind the zombie, Harold could see how they got in, a broken window, presumably on the side that they had forgotten to spread slop around. The creature saw Harold and dashed after him. He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly stumbling on each step. As he made it to the top, the zombie continued to scamper after him. Then out of nowhere, a leg swung around and knocked the zombie over the banister sending it back down to the first floor. Harold looked up and saw Oscar standing over him.

"Come on Harold, this way." Oscar said. They could hear more screeches as more zombies began to pick up their scent and came pouring into the school through the broken window. Oscar and Harold ran for one of the classrooms and ran inside, slamming the door shut.

Outside, Gerald, Arnold, and Charlie slammed their backs against the side of a building, breathing heavily. They had just turned the corner and were about a block away from the school.

"Can't shake these bastards. Where are we gonna go now?" Gerald asked, panicking. Arnold, his chest pumping in and outward, looked around. He then saw a large garbage dumpster to the side, and then higher up, was a ladder leading to the fire escape. It scaled all the way to the roof.

"We're not gonna make it going forward. We're going up." He said as he ran for the dumpster. He took a smaller box and pulled it in front of the dumpster. He climbed up, turned around and stuck his hand out, "Come on!"

Gerald was the first, he hopped up the box, passed Arnold the gas tank, grabbed Arnold's hand and Arnold hoisted him up. Charlie began to climb up the box, when zombies started to turn the corner and ran after them. Before they could hop up the dumpster, Gerald took a massive swing at them with the second gas tank. Arnold took one tank and Gerald held the other. They shouldered their weapons and began to scale the building with one hand holding the bars as the other hoisting the twenty pound gas tanks.

As they hopped off the fire escape and stood on the roof, they began to regain their bearings and find their next direction. Arnold squinted his eyes in one direction and could see the school far in the near distance. He walked over to the edge of the building and looked over it. A good three story drop, but it was four feet between them and the second building. He tossed the gas tank over to the building and told Gerald to do the same.

"Are you crazy Arnold? Hopping buildings? We ain't gymnasts here man!" Gerald said.

"Live or die remember?" Arnold said as he leapt across the buildings and landed safely on the other side.

"Some summer vacation." Gerald muttered as he tossed the gas tank which Arnold caught. He then took a few steps back and ran. His first foot caught the ledge but the other slipped by the toes. Before he could tumble down to the gathering horde below, Arnold caught him by his red shirt and pulled him to the flat end.

"Come on Charlie!" Arnold called. Charlie clapped his hands, rubbed them and ran. His skinnyness propelled him further than expected and he collided into Gerald who had open arms. Both fell to the floor. "We're almost there. Let's get this gas in the Humvee and get out of here." Arnold said. Before long, the group was bounding over big dips and hopping from building to building, getting closer and closer to the roof of the school.

On the ground at the school, Stinky had unlocked the door and Phoebe, Eugene, and Hyunh walked to the other side. Stinky shut the doors and sealed them up, locking themselves outside the school, "Where the hell are those fellers?!" Stinky asked frantically as he shut the padlock.

"They'll be here, I know it." Phoebe said.

"And what about Oscar and Harold? Are we just gonna leave them up there to be devoured?!" Eugene said.

"We'll drive around in the Humvee and try to clear the way for them to jump on the Humvee." Phoebe said.

"That's a twenty foot drop from those windows up there Phoebe. They can't make it. Not to mention, we need that gas if we're gonna make it far." Stinky said.

"If they wanna stay alive, it's what we have to do!" Phoebe demanded.

"Guys, can we have this discussion somewhere safer?" Eugene said, motioning over to the parked Humvee, khaki colored and massive compared to the school playset which sat beside it.

Arnold and the others landed on the next rooftop. The school was right across from them, "Come on, all we gotta do is jump one last time, climb in through the skylight, get the gas in the Hummer and we're gone." Arnold said.

Just as he finished talking, they heard an engine sputter then rev up. They looked over to the ledge and walked over to it. There they saw the Humvee, its lights shining brightly and it slowly began to inch out of the playground,

"They're already leaving?!" Gerald shockingly exclaimed.

"No, there's still time!" Charlie said.

"Let's go, if we can get to the school, we can still catch them. The Humvee started to pull out further. Arnold and the other two leapt across to the school and located the nearest skylight. Gerald blasted it out with the butt of the shotgun and they jumped inside. The room was clean, save for a freshly rotting corpse by an open window. They looked around and saw Harold and Oscar huddled in the corner.

"Arnold! Gerald! Choco boy! You guys made it!" Harold said happily.

"None too happy about it. We gotta move, the others are leaving without us." Gerald said.

"What?!" Harold exclaimed.

"Don't bitch about it, come on let's go!" Gerald hollered. The group threw open the classroom door and went back out into the hallway. They heard screeches coming from the stairwell, getting louder and louder.

"Oh come on!" Harold angrily said.

Oscar looked at the group and then back at the top of the stairs. He looked to the sides and saw the gates that slid shut to lock up the hallways after school hours. Quickly, he grabbed one side and slid it to the middle of the hall, he then grabbed the other and connected it to the first half, sealing himself on the side with the stairs and the approaching zombies.

"Mr. Kokoshka what're you doing?" Arnold asked frantically.

"I'm sorry Arnold, sorry for all the trouble I've given you and your family. This is how it has to be." Oscar replied.

"No, Mr. Kokoshka, no. It doesn't have to be like that." Arnold said, his voice shaking.

"For so long, I've been so selfish, so rolled up in my own greed I never could see what was important. It's time I changed things. It's time I did something for you and your life Arnold."

"Oscar, please don't." Arnold said, getting more frantic, tears dripping from his eyes. It was the first time Arnold ever called Oscar by his first name.

"Do me a favor Arnold, find my wife. Find Suzie and tell her I love her. I'm doing this for you, and I'm doing this for her." Oscar said, backing away from the gate.

"Oscar don't! We have guns! We can fight them!" Arnold screamed. Gerald, knowing they wouldn't have enough ammo grabbed Arnold's shoulders and began to pull him back.

"Gerald, take the fire escape on the other side of the school and get to the others." Oscar ordered, "I love you Arnold, you're the little nephew I always wanted to be an uncle to."

Arnold continued to watch him as zombies began to reach the top of the stairs.

Then Oscar said, "Goodbye."

Immediately, he swung a fist at the first zombie to charge him, sending it flying back toward the wall. The others began to run after him. Oscar ran into a classroom again and shut the door. Gerald continued to pull a screaming Arnold away from the gate and into the classroom with the fire escape. Charlie and Harold followed. The last thing Arnold saw, were zombies banging on the door that Oscar had barricaded himself behind. Before Gerald pulled him all the way in, Arnold could see the zombies breaching the door and beginning to pour inside the room Oscar was hiding.

They went over to the open window, stepping over two zombie corpses that the others had killed and climbed out onto the fire escape. They began to quickly run down the ladders from level to level, holding the gas tank in one hand and keeping his grip on the ladders with the other. Arnold, while he climbed down, wiped tears from his eyes. Gerald hit the ground first, followed by Charlie and Harold and finally Arnold. Arnold and Gerald set their gas tanks down.

"Where's the Humvee?!" Harold asked frantically.

"It's gone. They left without us." Charlie said in despair.

"No, no it's not. Not now, this is _not_ how it's gonna be." Arnold demanded, "They're coming back for us." He walked toward the vacant street, away from the school which continued to fill with zombies, "Come on, we've still got Stinky's truck, if we're quick we can catch up." Arnold said, picking up his gas, Gerald doing the same. They sprinted away from the school and back down the alley they had first taken when they first arrived at the school. Sure enough, Stinky's truck was still parked there. No zombies were around to catch their attention.

"Fill the truck with one of the tanks and put the other in the truckbed." Arnold said, handing his gas tank to Charlie. Harold climbed into the truck, and Arnold walked around to the other side of the truck. He peaked inside and sighed with relief to see the keys sitting on the dash where Stinky had left them.

Gerald tipped the gasoline container into the plug hole and gas began to pour out, its foul odor filling Gerald's nostrils. Charlie was on the other side, he stood up on his toes to reach inside the truck bed and set the container down.

Suddenly, a sharp gnawing pain hit Charlie and he collapsed. The throbbing came from his leg and he looked down in horror to see a zombie's teeth being sunk into his calf. The zombie, laying under the truck began to crawl after him after having bitten him.

"Arnold!" Charlie called. Arnold looked out the truck window and saw the zombie. He frantically hopped out the truck and pulled out the shotgun, blowing the zombie's head off. Charlie sat there, clutching his leg. Arnold went to his side, moaning and repeating to himself.

"No no no no no no no no."

Gerald went over, saw his wound, "Oh shit." He uttered.

"No no, Charlie, stay with me. This is gonna be okay." Arnold said.

"It hurts so b _ad_." Charlie moaned sobbingly.

"Listen to me, you're gonna be okay." Arnold said, his voice shaking with fear.

"Arnold." Gerald said. Arnold looked up at him, seeing his face with extreme assurance and self awareness, as if Gerald were to say, 'It's over for him'. But only doing it with eye contact to keep Charlie from hearing.

Gerald, being behind Charlie, began to pull out his pistol from his pocket, "Wait." Arnold said, "It's been at least twenty seconds now, and he's not changing." Gerald let go of his holster.

"Feel anything?" Gerald asked.

"N-no. It just stings a bit." Charlie said.

"No cold sensation? Tingling of the spine?" Arnold asked.

"Nothing…" Charlie said, as they heard a running engine get closer. Out of nowhere, the humvee came skidding up beside Stinky's truck and the others piled out. Phoebe ran around and hopped into Gerald's arms, gripping him tightly. She looked over and saw Charlie on the ground.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Charlie's been bitten." Gerald responded.

"What?" Phoebe asked panicked.

"Wait Phoebe, he's not changing…" Arnold asked, shocked.

"Well..why is that?" Phoebe asked. Arnold looked at her and back at Charlie who had the same dumbfounded look as Arnold did. Gerald continued to look on in shock as well as Hyunh, Harold, Eugene, and Stinky, "Why's he not changing?" Phoebe's barrage of questions just faded away in everybody's minds. Meanwhile, infected began to spew from the school and all directions, gaining on the group, closer and closer. Phoebe's words broke the silence as the thunder rolled away in the sky.

"Why is he not changing? How come the bite's not infected?...How is that possible?...Where's Oscar?...Why's he not changing?..."

To Be Continued in Season 2 - Daily chapters starting August 1st - Remember to follow the story to get updates


	7. For Now

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _For Now_

Journal entry #56 – August 19 2012, 2 months after initial outbreak

"Things were looking up. We had our lives, hope, and Oscar to thank for it all. Without him, we probably would have never gotten to where we are now. After we escaped the school, Charlie got attacked and that's when we got dumbfounded. Charlie was just as surprised. I still remember him sitting there with blood gushing out of the bite wound on his leg. Once we got out of Hillwood, we waited maybe five more minutes till we realized Charlie wasn't changing. No one wanted to believe me when I said it could mean a chance at returning things to normal, a cure. It took me enough effort to convince Gerald to take him with us, and twice as much effort not to tie him to the top of the humvee. Instead we kept him in the bed of Stinky's truck. Then it was eastward to find more survivors, or maybe a better shelter. Where we stand, we couldn't make it to the west coast. We'd be lucky to come across an FTi station in the middle of nowhere here. Maybe they could tell us something about Charlie.

It was two days later when we were on I-60 in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. We found a small rundown cabin with a fresh fire in the backyard and an unexpected surprise. Nadine, battered and bruised up but not infected, came out swinging a bat at us. Took us half an hour to calm her down and convince her it was us. She's been staying out there by herself for the last two weeks. Turns out her parents were taken and she was left behind too. It doesn't make sense.. they'd take my parents but leave me. Helga's helicopter crashed, they rescue her father and Suzie Kokashka, but leave her behind. None of it adds up. I asked Nadine about Helga but she said she hadn't seen her. Apparently, Rhonda and her father passed through a week ago, they were never evacuated. Nadine was able to feed them one night but the next morning they were gone without a trace.

Nadine decided to come with us, and we pressed on. It was maybe another day before we were in luck. We stumbled upon a peaceful suburban neighborhood somewhere in Bradford, Pennsylvania. There were no walkers, save a few wandering the street. Took us a while before we found a really nice one at the end of a cal de sac. It was perfect, the inside was clean, the surrounding houses were empty, and gave us supplies for weeks. It was home to us and we felt safe, for now. The only problem I had, was Charlie. They still didn't trust him…And because I wanted him to be free, I'm probably losing their trust just as much… Still pushing, still moving on, Mom, Dad, I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna find Helga."

Arnold clapped the journal shut. He walked over to the bookshelf behind his desk and set it on the high top of it. He then grabbed a book from the lower shelf that was longer, and he used it to push the journal out of reach against the wall. He set the longer book back on the shelf and left the study room. He trotted down the stairs and entered the kitchen, where Gerald, Phoebe, and Eugene were gathered at the dinner table, in clean cut clothes and pajamas left behind by the previous owners. They had spoons in their hands, scooping dry cereal out of plastic bowls. Arnold patted the table with his hand to tell them good morning and waltzed over to the pantry and opened it. He sighed in discomfort to see the bottom shelf empty.

"That's the last of the cereal?" He asked.

"Unfortunately," Gerald replied, "Don't worry, the others got their share. There's peanut butter on the top though." Arnold reached up higher and grabbed one of the three jars of peanut butter on the top. He set it on the counter next to the pantry and pulled a knife from the drawer under it. He began to scoop it from the jar and set it in his mouth, letting the creaminess melt in his throat. He kept the knife in his mouth as he looked upon the trio sitting at the dinner table. For a second, he started to think how things could have been normal and this wouldn't be any different. Friends all under one roof, having a little wake up party after the crazy night that came before. Yet something didn't feel right about it, there was the issue of trust…

"What about Charlie?" Arnold asked. Eugene and Phoebe continued to eat but Gerald stopped, putting his spoon down, almost rough enough to be frustrated.

"He's taken care of, Arnold. I fed him one of those nut bars when I woke up."

"What do you mean you just _fed_ him one. He's not a pet, Gerald." Arnold said, grabbing the peanut butter from the counter. He went back upstairs and instead of turning right to go back into his and Stinky's bedroom, he turned left and passed through Nadine's bedroom to get to a small storage room door. Taking out a key, he pulled away the rod that pinned the door from opening outward and he put the key in a lock. He opened the door and inside, Charlie was pacing at the back of the small room, his leg freshly bandaged.

"Hey Arnold."

"Morning, Charlie. Brought you this." Arnold said, passing Charlie the peanut butter. Charlie took it reluctantly and began to scoop out chunks with his finger, "Did you get enough breakfast?" Arnold asked.

"Yeah, Gerald tossed a granola bar in here an hour ago. Had chocolate in it though." Charlie said, with a chuckle.

"Sorry for the treatment you've had, the others are just cautious." Arnold said.

"I don't blame you Arnold, nor them. In a time like this, I'd understand being on your toes, being scared of someone. Hell, I'm scared of myself from time to time."

"Have you felt anything recently? Anything changed since the bite?"

"Nothing at all. It's weird I know, but I've just gotta wait it out." Charlie said assuring.

"I know. If anything starts to change or you're not feeling right, let me know. I promise you now, I won't let anybody touch you as long as I'm here. You're still one of us." Arnold said with a crooked smile.

"Thanks Arnold. Thanks for the peanut butter too." Charlie said as he cleaned his finger and handed the peanut butter back to Arnold.

"I'll be back in a couple hours to check on you, kay?" Arnold said. Charlie nodded with a smile. Arnold closed the door and reluctantly locked it, putting the rod back in its place.

Back downstairs, Phoebe had gone outside to tend to the garden they had found when they first got to the house. Gerald was standing at the counter next to the damaged refrigerator and overlooked a piece of paper, planning out scavenging trips and patrols for the week. Arnold walked past Gerald to the pantry and set the peanut butter back on the top shelf, "Shouldn't be grooming him Arnold, you're making him too comfortable here."

Arnold decided to ignore him and said, "I'm gonna go on patrol a little early." He then took the knife and grabbed a crusty towel hanging from the side of the fridge and vigorously wiped away the excess peanut butter that was caked on the knife.

"Sure that won't be too much?" Gerald asked.

"Nah, I might check out that Grizzo's station we keep talking about, see if they've got anything we can use."

"I'd be careful Arnold, scavenging on your own can mean big trouble." Gerald asked.

"Hey, it's me." Arnold said with a smile.

Gerald put the pen down and walked up to him, "Listen Arnold, things are not as they seem right now. You may think its hunky dory and we've got everything we need, but you need to watch it. Don't go and get yourself killed." Arnold stood there in silence, "Promise me, now, that you won't go more than half a mile from this house. Promise me that now."

Arnold looked at the ground and back at him, "Promise."

"Good." Gerald said, with a smile he rubbed Arnold's scalp and scraggled his hair. Arnold walked out the garage door.

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(Future Tech Station Kappa, 380 miles from Pennsylvania)

The guards carelessly dropped Bob Pataki on his bed and walked out, locking the cell door behind them. Suzie Kokashka got up from her own bed and walked over to the cell bars, "Bob?" She called. No answer, the air conditioning sent a low moan through the halls of the chilled room. This was the fourth time the guards had taken Bob from his cell only to bring him back an hour later, unconscious and barely breathing.

"Bob?!" She called again, slamming her hand against the bars. The slam reverberated through Bob's ear drums and jolted him back to consciousness.

Suzie could hear him rustling around, "Thank God. What the hell are they doing to you?" She asked.

Bob continued to grunt back to consciousness, "Suzie?"

"Yes, I'm here."

Bob grunted again, "Man, it's like a fucking zoo in here, I can't see a thing till I'm back in here, they knock me out every time they take me out for a walk or whatever the hell it is they're doing."

"Do you feel anything different? From before and after they take you out and put you back?" She asked.

"Well I always feel like crap when I wake up, massive hangover to add to the mix and overall just plain shitness." Bob said, frustratingly. Suzie rolled her eyes, hearing everything she had already heard from the other times.

"Bob you gotta be careful, whatever they're doing to you, it can't be good."

"Yeah no shit, what do you expect me to do when they knock me out every time they come in here?" Bob replied sarcastically. Suzie sighed with frustration. She looked at the walls and ceiling of her cell.

"Bob we have to get out of here. Whatever they want from us, it won't save us."

"What makes you say that?" Bob asked.

"I'm pretty sure I'd be in a cozy bed with off brand coffee in my hand and breakfast/lunch/dinner served every day if they really wanted to treat us like survivors."

"Where do you think you are? Holiday Inn? They're just cautious, we could be infected for all they know. Wake up Miriam!" Bob cried, his lips zipped shut when he realized what he had said. The silence just grew louder in the room. Suzie slumped against the cell bars, laying on the cold concrete ground.

"I'm sorry Suzie. Being locked up, knowing you won't see your wife again, it does a number on you." Bob mumbled.

"I know.." Suzie said, painfully thinking about Oscar, wondering what he could be doing at that very moment.

Just then the door swung open, two guards came in with a tall slim body dragging between them, chest still moving in and out. Both Suzie and Bob stuck their faces to the bars to see what was going on. Bob could hardly get a glimpse of the person but Suzie could, she had her mouth gaped as she continued to watch them toss the body on the bed in the cell next to Bob's. They got out, walked back to the door, shut it and they could hear the door click on the other side.

Suzie continued to stare, "Suzie, who is it?" Bob asked.

"It-it's Phil." Suzie said, looking at Arnold's grandpa, limp body slumped on the bed, eyes tightly shut.

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The sun gave off a faint red orange color as the sun began its initial rise. The wind slightly chilled the temperature down a few degrees. The driveway was light and dark at the same time, on one side sat the humvee, Stinky's truck, however, was not in its place. It was the beginning of the morning patrol, and Arnold was out scavenging. The two clocks in the house beeped for 4 AM. Not a single lamp was lit, not a single street light. Everything about the neighborhood and the surrounding streets was lifeless. At the house, everybody was asleep. In the only bedroom on the main floor, Gerald held Phoebe tightly under his arm, her hands at his side and on his chest. Downstairs in the basement, Harold, Stinky, and Eugene had two couches and a leather chair to sleep on. Upstairs, Hyunh slept in the larger upstairs bedroom, across the hall was Nadine's room.

Nadine slept peacefully in the smallest room, having the "misfortune" of having to sleep in the room next to Charlie's. Charlie had no mattress, no way of comfortably sleeping, yet he was in deep slumber. Suddenly, a rustling of the window stirred him, he opened his eyes and glazed them over to the window hanging over his room. He could see fingers rummaging at the frame.

Suddenly the fingers gave a loud pop and the window began to slide open. Charlie at this point was on his rump backed against the wall in fear as a dark figure began to crawl in. Charlie could see long hair, the figure's torso was not very clear, most likely due to a dark t-shirt or coat of some kind but he could see the figure was wearing jeans. It laid there on its knees for a moment when it turned to look at Charlie. Before he could utter a sound, held back by fear, the figure whispered a quiet "ssshh" putting an index finger to its lips.

Then Charlie heard a feminine voice, "Don't make a noise, I'm gonna help you Charlie."

Charlie began to choke on his words, "How do you know me?"

"How could I not? Chocolate boy." The figure said with friendliness in its girlish voice. Charlie saw the figure hold out a hand.

"I'm taking you with me. Gonna get you out of here." Charlie took the hand and stood up with the dark figure. It was only then he could recognize who his "rescuer" was as they began to crawl out the window.

"Helga?"

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To be continued


	8. Gifted Individual

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Gifted Individual_

The station was deserted, no sign of life, neither human nor infected. Arnold kept his guard up though as he climbed out of the truck and quietly shut the door. He treaded through the debris, kicking empty cans away from him or examining wrecked cars. Suddenly, a crow cried out from its perch on the station rooftop. He spun around, hand grasping his holstered pistol, thumb on the hammer. The crow cawed once more and took off from its resting spot. Arnold sighed with caution as he took his hand off the pistol. He turned back toward the station and began to walk toward its doors.

Inside, the realm of the whole store uttered recent death. The odor was foul and Arnold gagged at the sites. Shelfs were turned over, broken due to struggles between the living and the undead. A large pool of blood sat on the counter next to a tipped over cash register. The blood ran from the counter to the edge and dripped frequently on the floor. Arnold couldn't tell if the blood was infectious or not but he chose to steer clear either way. With caution still in his mind, Arnold took off the knapsack he had strung to his back and sifted through the shelves looking for leftover products and useful supplies.

After checking both the grocery and the backroom, Arnold was able to find two cans of soda, a bottled water, and two boxes of Excedrin. Dropping it all in the sack, Arnold flung it over his shoulder and walked out of the store. As he passed through the broken sliding doors, he was greeted by two guys, one slim, one heavy, both donning red bandanas on their foreheads.

"Greetings." Said one of them in a ripped jeans vest, Arnold figured he knew what trouble he was in. But he decided to play it cool.

"Hey guys." He said.

"Whatcha doing?" The other one, a smaller and heftier guy, asked.

"Passing through, I found this station and figured I'd pop in to see what they had."

"Well did you find anything?" The one in the vest asked.

"Actually yes I did." Arnold said with a fake but convincing smile.

"Really. Can you show us?" The hefty one asked.

"I actually can't, I kinda have somewhere to be." Arnold replied.

"What makes you think you've got a choice?" The hefty one asked again. At that point, Arnold knew his speech skills would fail him, and he slowly reached for the knapsack string. He pinched it and pulled the bag from his shoulder, setting it slowly on the ground.

"You're a smart guy." Said Vest-guy, he began to walk forward, "Now walk away. And we won't have to do anything 'irrational'." He then said.

"'Fraid I can't do that." Arnold responded, his voice slightly lower.

Vest-guy sighed with frustration, "Listen, kid-"

"Pretty sure I'm not a kid." Arnold interrupted.

"Take off now, and we won't have trouble." Hefty guy said.

"You're talking to the wrong person about ' trouble'." Arnold responded, his arm crept to his backside where on his belt was another holster with a butterfly knife inside.

"K fucker, you asked for it." Vest guy said as he approached Arnold, cracking his knuckles. Hefty guy followed slowly behind. Arnold squinted with delight, remembering Grandma's karate lessons all those years ago. In the blink of an eye, Arnold leapt up with both feet, sending them swinging into Vest guy's chest. He flew backwards and collapsed behind Hefty guy. Arnold landed back on his feet with his hand still in his back pocket.

Hefty guy charged at Arnold but he quickly dodged him and sent him crashing into one of the store windows. Vest guy regained his balance, but with a cut lip and stiffened neck.

"You're dead." He grunted, reaching into his pocket and flinging out a switchblade. Arnold pulled out his butterfly knife and slightly bent his knees. Vest guy mistakenly charged him again, swinging his blade around this time, attempting to slice Arnold.

Arnold, not taking a hit, and easily anticipating his moves, flung from side to side till he had an open shot at Vest guy's leg. He took the shot and kicked him from the side, almost disjointing his leg. Vest guy cried out in pain but was able to use his good leg to swing back around with his knife. Arnold dodged him again but this time, Arnold did not hold back, taking his own butterfly knife and taking a swing at Vest guy's ear. The next few seconds were very bloody for Vest guy as Arnold had struck his ear, taking off a piece from the top. As Vest guy screeched in pain, Arnold stood there with a look of determination on his face, as if to say, "You asked for it."

Hefty guy stood back up again and dragged his feet from the broken glass. He looked at Arnold, then at Vest guy, seeing what Arnold had done. Over to his side, Hefty guy could see several walkers honing in on them. He walked over to vest guy, still clutching his ear.

"Come on Brig, we gotta scram. He's not worth it." Hefty guy said to Vest guy. Vest guy, named Brig looked at Arnold with fire in his eyes.

"I'll see you soon, and when I do, you're a dead man." He uttered. Hefty guy began to push him along. Arnold began to see the walkers as well, they caught eye of him and he quickly took off, picking up his knapsack, running opposite Brig and Hefty guy, sprinting toward the truck.

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Suzie and Bob continued to look, mouths agape at their newly arrived guest. Phil had been lying on his cot for three hours, still unconscious. The body started to stir. Suzie sighed with relief.

Phil opened his eyes but then squinted them to adjust to the brightness. He then clutched his head tightly with one hand, "Jiminy Christmas! How bad can a headache be?!" He cried.

"Phil!" Suzie called. Phil turned his head over facing toward Suzie's cell, "Suzie Kokashka, well I'll be, you made it!" He said as he began to sit up in the bed. He looked around his surroundings and observed. "Wait, why are we in cells?" He asked.

"Beats me, are you okay?" Suzie asked.

"Besides the old age and anvil of a migraine, yeah I'm just peachy. What about you? I remember seeing your chopper go down from where I was in the air, where's Oscar?" Phil asked.

"I don't know. I figure the bastard woke up and ran off, leaving the rest of us behind. I haven't seen Hyunh here either. It's just me and Bob Pataki." Suzie said.

"Pataki? Where's he?" Phil asked.

"Over here, old man." Bob grumbled from the cell next to Phil's.

"Well, Big Bob Pataki, locked up in a cage eh? Last time I saw you was in the front seat of a Ferrari, I assume yours? You were making a fortune and now look atcha!" Phil exclaimed.

"Yeah, keep reminding me why don't ya." Bob said, looking up at the ceiling and the one flickering bulb that hung over his head.

Phil started to chuckle to lighten the mood, but then his chest started to tighten up and he coughed a few times. He clinched his fist and held it to his mouth to keep from spraying. After his chest started to loosen again, he looked down at his hand and saw a couple of small drops of red on his fingers. His eyes widened but he casually wiped his hand on his overalls, ignoring it. He looked back at the wall next to his cot and his eyes darted back and forth.

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Arnold had just got back from his scavenging trip; he pulled up in the driveway beside the Humvee and hopped out. He gripped the handle at the bottom of the garage door and lifted the door up high, pulling it back down shut when he was all the way in. He came in through the door and set the knapsack down on the kitchen counter.

"I'm back. Harold, you're up for patrol!" He called. When there was no answer, Arnold walked over to the stairs. "Hello?" He called again. No answer for a few seconds.

"Arnold!" A feminine voice called from below Arnold's feet. He walked back to the flight of stairs that led to the basement. He went down and entered the deeper part of the basement that housed the furnace and all the utilities. There he saw Nadine, poking at a bolt on a pipe that led to the air conditioning unit on the outside of the house. Hyunh was at her side, assisting.

"What's up Nade?"

"Charlie's gone." She uttered. Arnold felt instant shock.

"What?!" He exclaimed.

"Gerald and the others are upstairs in my room checking out his cell. The window was open when Eugene went up to give him food."

"What're you guys doing down here?" Arnold asked.

"Well, we've got bigger headaches that could hurt all of us. The vacuum pipe we've got pumping slop outside the house is starting to corrode. Soon it'll be useless and the slop odor will slowly wear off outside the house."

"Can it be fixed?" Arnold asked.

"Not sure, but if the corrosion doesn't get cleaned off soon, the pipe will basically crack till the point of disintegration, then we won't have anything to cover the house from walkers outside. They'll come around from miles to find out where we are."

Arnold sighed in frustration, "Ok, do what you can. Make up another batch and spread four buckets out in front of the garage. Buy us some time till we can go out to get what we need, kay?"

"Yes! yes! Already ahead of you Arnold." Hyunh chimed in.

"Thanks Mr. Hyunh," Arnold smiled back, "Nadine, I know I've told you this before, but I'm glad you came with us. For someone who loves bugs and engineering at the same time, you've really pulled your weight. Thank you for that." Arnold said.

"You're welcome Arnold, I'd head upstairs, Gerald's on edge waiting for you." She said. Arnold nodded and dashed all the way up the basement stairs, through the living room and up the main stairs to the top floor. Phoebe and Eugene were on the couch in the loft room reading and occasionally making moves in a chess game, competing for bragging intelligence rights no doubt. Arnold went into Nadine's room where Harold and Stinky were standing. After greeting them, he continued into the small room Charlie was in to find Gerald examining the window and sticking his head out to look down at the driveway, almost 20 feet up.

"What happened to Charlie?" Arnold asked.

"Bout damn time Arnold. We've got a problem. Charlie disappeared last night." Gerald replied as he pulled his head back in.

"Why would he do that?" Arnold asked.

"Don't know, but he was pretty fucking quiet for a tiny kid on edge from so much chocolate in his brain."

"He's been sober from that stuff for years Gerald. Just calm down and tell me what's happening." Arnold said.

"Whatever dude, listen, I know I've been a prick about him and his 'immunity' whatever you want to call it, but I don't want him running around out there trying to figure stuff out on his own. We gonna get him back one way or another." Gerald said.

"Alright alright, just relax, I'll go. He may be young but he knows how to get around the walkers. Remember, he's small and quick. Think I might be able to pick up a track if we get to the main road outside the neighborhood."

"And who's gonna watch your back?" Gerald asked. Arnold nodded with a smug look and walked out, Gerald right behind. They went back down to the basement and walked up to a large cabinet, inside on the shelves were all their weapons. Stinky's 12-gauge shotgun, an Ar-15 rifle on the top, three Beretta 9mms in the middle, and at the bottom, a .38 pea shooter next to Charlie's sling shot.

Arnold took the rifle, and Gerald took the shotgun, "We doin this?" Gerald asked, Arnold nodded. The two walked over to the front door, unlocked it and exited the house. They got to the front of the driveway and started to ponder which direction to take.

"Which way we goin Arnold?" Gerald asked.

"I don't know." Arnold responded. Gerald let the shotgun hang in his arm out of frustration. Just then, Arnold noticed something in the dirt.

"Gerald, look!" Arnold said, he walked over to a spot of dirt where embedded in the earth was a shoe footprint. The toe end of the print faced north.

"Looks like we're going this way." Arnold said. The two looked toward their new heading and began to hike. Out of error, Arnold stepped on the footprint as he walked.

As soon as his foot contacted the print in the dirt, light and images shot through Arnold's head, he grunted in pain. His last conversation with Charlie echoed.

"Thanks for the peanut butter- thanks for the peanut butter – thanks for the" Then new images started to invade Arnold's head, a shadowy figure had Charlie in his hand, he could see the figure, slim and feminine looking, dragging Charlie in the direction they were walking. He could see the figure turning toward the house but could not make out who it was. Just then, the rush of imagery stopped. Arnold took a deep breath and stumbled.

"You alright buddy? Looked like a seizure there." Gerald said, concerned as he helped Arnold with his balance.

Arnold clutched his head, "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

Arnold shook his head again, "Gerald, ungh, I don't think Charlie ran off, "He turned toward Gerald and looked directly at him, "He was taken."

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To be continued.


	9. The Puppeteer

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _The Puppeteer_

The howling wind disturbed Miles and kept him chilled as he rested on his battered cot. Not a minute passed that he thought of his wife Stella, or his son and where he was. All he could do was lay on a deteriorating mattress, scrubbing at the scars on his arms from the torture he had to endure. At that particular moment, Miles was scratching away at the wall, marking another tally of days being locked up. He dropped the small piece of gravel he used to write, and looked up at the small window that poked a bit of sunlight into his cell. The morning was just starting, but Miles couldn't see it, he had no idea what was going on in the outside world.

Just then, the door creaked open, and two pairs of footsteps came pattering over to his cell door. He sat up on his cot, hands clutching at the mattress as he awaited his prosecutors. His interrogator, the man in the black suit, called Victor, stood towering over him, casting a shadow between Miles and the single light bulb that lit the hall outside his cell. With Victor was a guard in full uniform, clutching an automatic sub machine gun in his hands.

"You need to come with me Miles." Victor said.

"Now why would I do that?" Miles asked.

"I think it's time you finally get your chance to see the light." He said.

"Victor, what could you possibly be thinking that would convince me to go anywhere with you." He asked.

Victor responded, "Because it could help you get your son back."

Miles' eyes widened as he looked at Victor, his own brow reassuring, with determination in his voice. Miles sighed as he patted his knees and stood up. Immediately, the guard entered his cell and took him by both his wrists, cuffing them with loose metal rings. He then pushed Miles out of the cell with a force that instigated anger in his heart. Victor grabbed him by his right arm. The two began to walk Miles out of the room that housed his cell.

The halls were brightly lit; chrome white paint reflected the lights that hung from the ceiling. Standing out from the white colors were Victor, the man in the black suit, and Miles, in his tattered khaki shirt and jeans, scars running up and down his arms and a long red mark on his forehead; both men looking like different classes of hierarchy.

Soon enough, the three men reached an elevator. Victor pushed the call button and turned to the guard, "Lieutenant you're dismissed." The guard nodded and walked away. Miles could only glimpse, at that moment, who the Lieutenant was: African American, young, his rifle held stiff, and his walk full of youth.

The elevator then opened; its metal rubbing against the internal hardware of the elevator's workings. Miles and Victor then walked inside. They stood in silence as the elevator climbed, dinging on each floor, "2...4..6". Once it hit floor 6, the elevator halted. The doors pried open, and Victor led Miles out into the hallway, much narrower and shorter. There was only one door, two guards stood at attention on both sides. Victor gestured his hand to the door and Miles walked to it, his hands still cuffed behind his back. Victor rushed up to the door and grabbed the knob, opening the door to let Miles in, and he followed suit.

The office was very large; two couches were set up on one side next to a small marble counter with glass bottles on top, indicating a mini bar. Miles looked at it as Victor walked over to a desk and then back over to him, holding a letter opener in his hands.

"For my advisors." Victor said with a smirk as he cut the bondage that held Miles' wrists together. He then turned to look at the desk in front of him, he walked over to it, leaving Miles standing in the middle of the room, on pale dark blue carpet, a large circular target embedded in red thread was sitting in the middle of the carpet. Victor walked over to the large windows that expanded the entire back wall and looked down. He looked back at Miles and gestured him over to the window.

"Look down there Miles." Miles walked over to the window and gazed down. Several brick buildings spanned an area of at least 10,000 acres. The buildings looked solid; several windows were planted on all sides, a compound. As if Miles had no suspicion of where he was, the sight confirmed it. FTi Kappa, the Future Tech station near Chicago.

"See that I'm trying my best to save lives in this chaotic situation. See how many have signed on, prepared for the worst of scenarios!" Victor began to walk away but continued to talk.

"Hundreds have helped initiate this movement, and more are pouring in every day. I'm trying my damnedst to ensure the survival of our species, before this gets out of hand. You need to understand that my intentions are pure, I have a good head on my shoulder, and you're the only one who's in my way. Now tell me Miles, why are you not giving me the information that I need to know."

Miles glared at Victor, a stern look as if he wanted him dead.

Then he said, "Tell me," Miles paused, "If you're so desperate to find out where my son is; then why was he left behind when our helicopter crashed?"

Victor looked him square in the eyes, aware of Miles' knowledge, knowing he very well may have to adjust his plan.

"I wanted to test them." Victor said.

"Test them?" Miles asked, surprised.

"Yes Miles, I wanted to test their endurance and survival instincts out in their….'natural habitat'." Victor responded.

"Natural habitat? Victor, they're not animals! These are human beings!"

"Yes Miles I know."

"That is my son you're talking about! Three months ago you promised me this would not get out of hand, with your constant tampering. But here we are, your "experiment" is unleashed on the country and inevitably the world."

"That's where your son comes in Miles. If we could test him in this environ-"

"Don't, don't give me that bullshit Victor. You've told me this before in the last ten years and I still don't want to hear it. Arnold's exposure in San Lorenzo has nothing to do with this."

"But _you_ don't know that, Miles. He doesn't either. Imagine, the power that _you_ experienced, with your own eyes in that deep jungle, think of the possibilities. The fact that your son, as well as so many others, was exposed to the immense power of the Green eye-"

"Don't keep digging Victor.." Miles interrupted, "Dig up the unknown and all you're gonna get is dirty."

"Go ahead Miles, intimidate me. Threaten me with your 'magic' talk. You'll eventually understand what I'm trying to do here."

"You're trying to make a buck is all; and you're using my son as just another one of your variables. He _and_ his friends."

"Just wait Miles, you'll see. With everything they've been exposed to, testing them in the midst of this outbreak, we could find hope. For all we know, a cure could be found, and distributing it could be the biggest turning point in this outbreak."

"And let me guess, once you find this 'cure', it's gonna be pretty pricey. Am I right?" Victor stood there in silence, "Am I right?!" Miles clenched his fists. Victor merely turned back to the window.

Outraged from thinking of his son, his wife, the chaos that's happening right outside; Miles leapt over the desk and charged Victor, slamming him against the window. He flipped him around and grasped him by the jacket.

"You tell me Victor! Am I right?" Miles said as he slammed Victor against the window, "This was all your plan! You did this just to make more money you greedy bastard!"

The guards outside heard the chaos and burst into the room, seeing the struggle in the far back, they charged at Miles, taking repeated strikes with their batons till his grip of Victor was loose and he was on the floor.

"Doctor Richtofen, are you alright?" One of them asked.

"I'm fi-I'm fine. Take him back down to his cell, and check on his wife, make sure she's still keeping our subjects company." Victor ordered.

As he was dragged away, Miles could only utter, "Where's my wife you son of a bitch, what've you done to her? Where's my wife?! Where's my family!?" He hopelessly cried, his shouts turning to snarls as his voice faded away from Victor's ear.

Victor turned back to the window, he grabbed a handkerchief from his desk and wiped at the smears left on the glass from his and Miles' struggle. He stopped and gazed down at the compound, hundreds of people at his command.

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Arnold bent down and examined a red stain on the ground. He and Gerald had arrived at the gas station that Arnold had previously scavenged and struggled with bandits.

"So Arnold, you're telling me that two roughneck bandits jumped you at this very spot, and you let them get away?" Gerald asked.

"I wasn't going to kill them, they just wanted my supplies." Arnold responded.

"Or else they would've killed _you_!" Gerald said, "Arnold, your boldness surprises me sometimes."

Arnold smiled and looked at him, "Gerald how many times in your life are you gonna acknowledge how 'bold' I am." Gerald placed his hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"Till the day I die brother." Gerald smiled.

Just then, a surge of pain struck Arnold in the head, he clutched it and grunted a bit.

"What's the matter dude?" Gerald said.

"I don't..know." Arnold said in pain as images sped through his head again. For split seconds he could see Gerald on the ground, a hooded figure pinning him and beating him senselessly as blood covered his face, he could see Charlie tied to a pole, shirtless and knife wounds all over his front body, himself and Gerald getting dragged by two more hooded figures.

All of a sudden, the visions stopped, Arnold looked up at Gerald, "We have to go."

"What-What do you mean?" Gerald asked.

"No time Gerald! We have to go! Run!" The two began to make a dash away from the gas station, but right then, a gunshot rang out. Gerald immediately hit the ground, blood running from his right leg.

"Agh dammit!' He exclaimed. Arnold ran to his aid.

"Gerald you okay?"

"I'm fine, my leg got grazed...Who's the jackass with the stormtrooper aim? Swear to God he's _dead!_ "

Right then, Arnold turned around to check his surroundings, but he was oblivious of the hooded figure that was sneaking up on him with a rock in his hands. As soon as Arnold saw him, the figure swung the rock at Arnold's face, sending him to the ground, unconscious.

The figure knelt down and checked Arnold's pulse, he was still alive. Gerald lay there surprised, "Who the hell are you?" He asked.

The figure looked at him before silently gesturing to his partner on the roof and at Arnold. He grabbed his hood and pulled it back, revealing the face of Brig, the vested thug that Arnold had combated earlier.

"It was only a matter of time," Brig grumbled. He walked over to Gerald and before Gerald could say anything, Brig took a swing at him, knocking him out on the first blow. Checking both bodies, he looked back at the gas station.

"We're good Chet! Nice shot!" Brig called.

Out of the shadows in the gas station came the small hefty guy that accompanied Brig, named Chet. In his hands was a .22 caliber rifle, he cocked the bolt and let the rifle dangle by its shoulder harness.

"Dinner time?" He asked, a gritty decaying smile on his face.

"Not yet, we'll bring them to camp, see what the boss says." Brig recklessly tossed Arnold over his shoulder, Chet took Gerald and dragged the two away from the gas station and back on the road.

The first function to come back was Arnold's ears. He could hear two voices but was unable to make out what was being said. Eventually he could feel his eyelids twitching and was barely able to open them. Just then he could hear grinding metal, a link of chains was tossed beside him and he could feel tension being loosened in his arms. He had been sitting up against a pole, his wrists chained to a handle that was above him. As he regained his sight, he could see several vehicles around him. They looked like RVs. To his left, he could see a sign hanging tall over the land, only two letters glowed in red neon lighting, a V, and a C.

After re-focusing his eyesight, Arnold could see that it read _No Vacancy,_ with just the V and C lit. Just then he felt a shove from behind him. He lunged forward and fell to the dirt.

"Get up!" a voice ordered. Arnold then felt a hard slam against his side, he looked over and saw his assailant, Brig, who was standing tall over him. He began to crouch down and got in Arnold's face. Arnold could smell liquor.

"Didn't see this coming, huh you little shit?" Brig said sadistically as he unlocked the chain binding Arnold to the pole. He stood up again and kicked Arnold once more, "Now get the fuck up! The big boss wants to see you."

Arnold slowly rose to all fours, "What?" Brig decided to speed up his standing process and flung him to his feet. As Arnold stood, he saw what he was chained to, a small red spigot used to distribute water for tenants. They were in an abandoned trailer park.

"Says he knows you. Now move!" Brig began to shove Arnold along as he moved. Arnold looked around, he saw the RVs, no one appeared to be inside them. He saw a fire to his right where Chet was crouching down next to a body tied to another spigot. He couldn't make out if it was Gerald or not, but on account of the figure's small body mass and lack of tall hair, he doubted it was.

Brig brought him to another RV, however this one had lights on inside, as well as a small generator humming next to it, "Hey Boss!" Brig called, "Get out here, brought your friend!"

"Where's Gerald?" Arnold asked. Brig looked at him.

"He's here…but, don't know for how long." He said with a chuckle. There was raucous going on inside the trailer, and then the door opened.

A short lanky figure came out, his black feathered jacket matted to his body and strings of hair draped over his forehead out of a moldy green ballcap that sat backwards on his head. The short lanky figure looked at Arnold, a crooked smile on his face.

"Hey Arnold." The young teenager said.

Arnold looked closer, his eyes widening with surprise, "Sid?"

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To be continued.


	10. The Map

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _The Map_

The house felt empty. Phoebe slept alone two nights and not a sign of life around her. Lying in bed alone didn't atone to Phoebe's mindset. With the world she lived in, the chaos around her, nothing to compare to the thought that her love, the one she'd always be loyal to, the one who cared and stayed with her through thick and thin, was out there, without a heartbeat. She had nightmares of Gerald walking towards her, green skin, scarred tissue on his forehead, grunting with decaying teeth, an arm missing and brownish pus gushing out of his teeth-

Phoebe jolted from the bed, breathing heavily, both arms holding up her posture. She looked left and right, the cracked window poured cold air into the bedroom. She clutched the sheets tightly and pulled them up to her legs. She then brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Just then there was a knock on the door, "Who is it." Phoebe choked.

The door opened and Harold popped his head in, "Phoebe? I heard your scream, everything okay?" He asked

"I'm fine Harold. Thank you. Just a bad dream."

"Had a nightmare huh?" Harold asked. Phoebe nodded, her lip still twitching.

"I get it, I've had a few rough nights myself." Harold responded. The two stood in silence, "They'll be back. I know it. Gerald and Arnold have never let each other down." Harold then said, "Get some more rest okay?" He suggested.

"Thank you Harold. Really, I mean it." Phoebe said. Harold smiled and nodded his head. He scooted out and closed the door. Phoebe turned towards the window, the curtains fluttered, and the wind howled in a low pitch. Phoebe tucked herself back under the sheets and stretched out her legs. She set her head to the pillow and looked straight up at the ceiling. The wind continued to howl, disturbing Phoebe every time her eyes began to droop. After a few moments, Phoebe decided to get up. She stood there in a large blue shirt dangling down over her waist and knees and then walked over to the window. She grasped the frame with her hands and began to push it down, sealing up the window. Just then, she caught site of something out in the distance.

Standing in the backyard of the neighboring house was a black figure, it looked dead, but standing there, staring directly at the house; it made no movements except the occasional swaying left to right. Phoebe shook the image from her head and returned to bed, this time, wrapping the blanket over her entire body, and curling up in a ball as she began to sleep again.

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The wind consistently kicked up dust which blew across the terrain. Dead trees creaked and bent with movement. Bits of trash danced around the various trailers. Arnold had his head drooping from his neck as he slept, his hands bruised from the cuffs that tied him to the spigot he was leaning against. Even with such an uncomfortable position, Arnold was in slumber. Until a clouded wad of dust blew right into his face. As he breathed it in, the dust stuck to his throat, drying it instantly and provoking him to cough. Arnold continued to spit the dust out of his mouth and wiped the tears and blood on his cheek onto his shirt. He looked up in front of him and saw Gerald, about ten feet away from him, tied to a telephone pole. His red shirt had darker red stains all over the chest, and his shoe was partially torn. They had been captives for at least a day now.

Just then, Arnold heard footsteps to his right, he looked over and saw Brig walking up to Gerald. Arnold tucked his feet in closer out of fear. Brig knelt down, undid Gerald's bindings and stood him up. Gerald was so unconscious he could hardly stand on his own.

"Gerald! What are you doing to him this time?" Arnold asked, panicked. Brig looked back.

"Shut up, Sid wants to talk to him again." Arnold began to kick his feet.

"If you hurt him again, you're dead! You hear me?!" Arnold screamed. Behind him, someone else spoke, sounding like Chet with his despicable smoker's voice.

"Short man, would you relax? We're not gonna give him the lemon juice this time. But I'm pretty sure Brig's got some ideas with his razorblade." Chet said with a loud chuckle. Arnold felt him set something down, something heavy, like a body. He felt rope stroking across his fingers and realized Chet was tying something else to the spigot behind him.

"What're, what're you doing?" Arnold asked, out of breath.

"Giving you some company. We need this guy's cage for actual animals, not dumbasses like yourself or this punk here." Chet said.

He felt Chet give one final pull on the restraints of his new 'prison mate' then watched as he walked away. Arnold stretched his hands, still tied but attempted to relax them. Within the boundaries of the rope that restrained his wrists, Arnold began to feel around behind him. Once he found a hand, he grasped it by the index finger and squeezed it.

Elsewhere in the camp, Brig had brought Gerald to Sid's trailer. He struggled to drag Gerald up the steps. But eventually they got to the door. Brig busted it open and dragged Gerald inside. He brought him to a couch that set against the inner wall. He threw Gerald down and hollered deeper into the trailer.

"Sid! Got your friend here!"

"Thanks Brig. Give us a few minutes." Sid responded. Brig turned around, looking back at Gerald one last time. Gerald's head was just hanging by the neck, the blood dripping onto his clothes. Arnold could feel deja vu from his vision, the same bloodied Gerald that was right in front of him.

Brig leaned down, winded his hand backward, and gave Gerald a good swat right across the face to wake him up. Gerald jolted out of shock and pain.

Brig could only laugh. Just then, Sid came out, "God dammit Brig, I said I'm gonna talk to him!" He yelled. Brig stopped laughing and just stormed out of the trailer, giving Sid an angry glare before disappearing from sight. Sid pulled up a chair and sat across from Gerald's limp body.

He leaned over and shook Gerald by the knee, "Come on Gerald, wake up. You okay?" Gerald could only mumble for a bit, "Gerald, we need to talk again. Sorry for what they've done to you. You weren't coming to your senses so we had to do something now right? Trust me, if I wasn't around, those two would've killed you by now."

Silence. Sid leaned back again, "Okay, now. You should know why I want to talk to you again? What I'm offering? So how about it? You take us to your house, you give us everything you own, and we'll leave you one vehicle. That's the offer on the table. You walk away with your lives, and Helga and Chocolate Boy are yours too."

Gerald mustered up as much strength as he could to lift his head, he looked straight at Sid's eyes, with his own; one with a red mark on the eyelid, and the other bloodshot.

"You're such an idiot." Gerald murmured. Sid looked at him disappointingly.

"Well." He said, leaning back in again, "Maybe we can fix that." Sid said, smiling.

Back outside, Arnold continued to grasp the tiny finger, hoping it was who he thought it was. He stretched even further to grab her whole hand. But upon realizing how small of a hand it was, he figured out it wasn't Helga behind him, it was Charlie. The hand began to move.

Charlie grunted in pain, his eyes slowly started to open, "Come on Charlie. Wake up." Arnold said. Charlie began to shake himself to consciousness.

"Arnold?" He uttered.

"Yeah Charlie. It's me." Charlie began to struggle with his restraints.

"How-How'd you get here? How'd they find you?" Charlie asked.

Arnold replied, "I don't know, we went out to find you, and next thing we know, Gerald's taking a bullet to the leg and we're both knocked unconscious. Are you hurt? What'd they do to you?"

"A good beating, that's about it." Charlie said.

"What about your captor. The one that took you."

Charlie looked straight ahead in response and then turned in Arnold's direction, "How do you know about that?"

"Don't lie Charlie, we saw the footsteps leading from the house, there were two sets in the front lawn. Tell me, who was it that took you?" Arnold asked again, sternly this time.

Charlie sighed then said, "Arnold, I don't know if you'll be able to handle it."

"Just tell me Charlie. I don't care how shocking it can be, I just want to know who it is that's crazy enough to take you away from your only hope for survival."

"It was Helga, Arnold." Charlie said. Silence, "Helga broke in and snatched me up."

Arnold looked downward in somber, confused as he's ever been in the 20 something years he's been alive.

"Why?" was all Arnold could ask.

"When we left the house, she said she's been watching us. Seeing that you had locked me up. She couldn't take it and decided to break me out. Said she knew where we could go for safety. I kept trying to convince her everything was fine. You were just cautious of me.." Charlie trailed off.

"No Charlie, it was wrong. I didn't want to lock you up, and I guarantee you, Gerald didn't either. It was just survival instinct I guess."

"Helga didn't want to listen to any of it. I was locked up out of cruelty in her mind and that was it. Couldn't convince her any other way." Charlie responded.

"Well is she here? She okay?" Arnold asked.

"We were both thrown in a cage when those creeps grabbed us. They wanted to know where we came from. Where the house was. I couldn't tell them, for your sake, for the sake of everybody else there. The hits didn't stop until I was numb…" Charlie murmured.

Arnold clutched Charlie's hand, "Don't worry Charlie, we're gonna get out of here. Helga and Gerald are gonna be fine, soon we'll all be back in our warm comfy house with all the others. What about Helga? Did they do anything to her?" Arnold said, minor anger in his voice.

"Arnold… that's what's bothering me."

"What? Tell me Charlie, what did they do?" Arnold said, more angry.

"I think… I think they 'touched' her." Charlie mumbled. Arnold twitched, his body warm with fresh hatred.

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Miles slumped in his cell, laying on his back, arm draped over his eyes and the other hanging from the edge of his cot. The moon shun light through the grating in the top corner of the cell wall. Just then, a door opened from outside the cell, and Victor, the man in black, walked up to his cell.

"Miles? Are you awake?" He asked. Miles barely moved. As he began to shuffle around in his cot, Victor said, "Time to start planning."

Victor stood there, towering over Miles in the cell, a peach colored folded piece of paper was in his hand. He lightly tapped the cell bar. The noise reverberated in Miles' ear and woke him up. He rotated his body to see Victor at his cell door. He stood up and walked up to him.

"Now that you've told me what I need to know. It's time we get our 'candidates' rounded up don't you think?"

Miles just stood there, a blank stare on his face, his lips in a drooped frown.

"Never mind then. Our plane will be ready in about five days. After refueling and getting the equipment on board, we'll be ready to go twelve hours from the end of that time frame. Got it? All I need from you is the exact coordinates where your original dig was set up."

With that, Victor held up the folded piece of paper, he un folded it, revealing a much larger paper with numbers and colored shapes all around it. Miles just stood there, staring at it for a second. He could hardly believe what it was he was looking at, or the fact that his son was just another variable in this chaotic mess caused by his once true friend turned enemy.

"Maybe with a little more rest and some time you'll come to your senses." Victor said as he folded up the paper, handing it to Miles through the bar. He turned and left the cell room. Miles gripped the paper in his hand. He walked back to his cot and unfolded it once more. All shapes and colors of green were sketched from top to bottom, left to right.

Lines were drawn from points A to B or C to V. In the lower right corner was a bar indicating a distance scale as well as big scrawled words that read, "San Lorenzo Map, property of Miles Shortman"

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To Be Continued


	11. Deal Making

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Deal Making_

Shaking himself awake once more, Arnold decided to try napping after talking with Charlie.

His emotions were dull. Just the thought that these bandits could've done something horrific to Helga drove him mad. His anger steered towards the grip in his wrists as he pulled, effortlessly, at the binds that tied him to the spigot. He tried once more to talk to Charlie, whispering his name.

He could not feel any motion behind him, but a light breathing told him Charlie was asleep. He looked straight ahead, where he could barely see Sid's trailer, partially covered by another RV in front of it. Looking to his left, and then to his right, seeing no signs of life, Arnold again tried loosening the rope that tied him to the spigot, but to no avail.

"Charlie." He uttered. He tapped Charlie's hand and said his name once more.

Charlie slowly started to stir awake.

"Charlie," Arnold started, "Did you see or hear anything about Gerald when I was asleep?" He asked.

"No." Charlie grunted, still groggy, "I just remember you saying he was going into Sid's trailer and that was it."

Just then, they heard a door open. Shortly after, they saw Gerald walking towards them with Sid and Brig following him.

Arnold could see Gerald's clothes, less raggedy and his face was more cleaned up. All he could think about was what Sid did to him.

"What's going on Gerald?" Arnold asked as Gerald stood over him. Gerald just turned back and looked at Brig.

"You gonna cut them loose?" Gerald asked. Brig then drew out his switchblade and sliced the rope that tied both Charlie and Arnold down. Arnold rubbed his wrists with irritation and gritted teeth, the red marks shining on the skin from the sweat. He looked up, Gerald had his hand held out. Arnold grabbed it and was lifted to his feet.

His legs almost gave way from laying on the ground for so long, but Gerald helped him stay straight.

"There you go bud." Gerald said.

"Gerald, what's going on?" He asked.

Gerald responded, optimistically yet somber, "We're going home dude." He turned towards Sid, "Where's Helga?" He asked.

Sid pointed his thumb over his shoulder, "On the other side of my trailer."

"Go get her and we'll load these guys in your truck." Gerald said.

Sid nodded and walked away.

"Helga?" Arnold asked.

"Don't get too excited okay? Sid's not the one we need to worry about." Gerald uttered.

Arnold looked up at him in confusion, his legs started to regain strength, "What do you mean? What happened to Helga?"

Gerald just stood there in silence, not saying a word, fearing for the safety of his friends.

"We made a deal. Sid and I." Gerald started, Arnold looked at him in disarray, hoping his worse fears were not going to come true.

"He's gonna let all of us go back to the house. Sid and his gang are gonna take what they want and leave us all there."

"So he's gonna take what he wants and leave us to die."

"He promises to let us live at least." Gerald responded. Arnold just stood there, in confusion and worry.

"Look bro, he's not going to take everything, Sid promised he'd leave us two days worth of supplies and one vehicle. I promised him the humvee, and we keep Stinky's truck."

"There's hardly enough room for everybody in there. We have ten people living in that house." Arnold said.

Gerald shrugged, but reluctantly said, "Guess drawing straws can come in handy at some point…"

Arnold looked at him in disappointment. Just then, they saw Sid turn the corner of his trailer, dragging someone behind him by the arm. The person had their wrists tied together, legs hardly standing and feet dragging on the dirt. Her tattered blonde hair was fluttering in the wind, and draping over her face. Holding down the top of her scalp was a black beanie cap. Arnold recognized it as his Christmas present to Helga two years ago.

For a second, the wind picked up speed and power, waving through the prisoner's hair, lifting it up and Arnold could barely see Helga's overbite lips and eyes hardly open.

"Helga!" He hollered, about to run to her to wrap her in a reuniting embrace, but Gerald stopped him.

"Arnold, she's in no condition to be excited." Gerald said very melancholy.

Sid continued to gently lead Helga towards them. He stopped, "Helga, Gerald and Arnold are here.

Arnold and Gerald just looked at her, her head still drooping downward. Then slowly, she started to stretch her neck, lifting her head up. Her eyes glimmered, and upon seeing Arnold's face, gave no reaction. Not a smile, in fact, Arnold saw as her eyebrows only drooped lower and her frown grew stronger.

Everyone halted as she started to grunt, and could only utter one word, "Bastard."

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Miles pulled the eraser away from the paper after clearing his mistake. It was a chore to plan out traveling routes, even with it being ten years since he's stepped foot on San Lorenzo. It was still hard to believe he was going back, then again, he felt melancholy that he didn't really have a choice. Richtofen was getting what he wanted, but he and Miles made a deal…

Just then, a guard came in and walked up to Miles' cell, "How's that table helping Colonel?" he asked.

"Doing fine Lieutenant, thank you," Miles replied, just then he turned around in his chair and looked at the soldier, standing stout behind the bars. He recognized him as the one always following Victor, protecting him, and watching Miles every now and then, "You've been looking after me for three days now, what's your name?"

"Johansson. Lieutenant Johansson sir."

Miles perked up in curiosity.

"Your full name soldier, what were you born with?" He asked, hoping this man was who he hoped he was.

"Jameson Othello Johannsson, friends call me Jamie-O." Miles leaned back in his chair in comfort. He knew who this man was.

"Hello Jamie." He said with a smile. Jamie only looked back in confusion

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Bob laid against one of the cell walls, throwing a pebble at the wall, catching it as it bounced back to him. Suzie fiddled with her nails, picking the dirt out from under them and flicking it to the ground. Phil, on the other hand, was more active, somehow he was able to grip the cell bars at their highest point and use them as a lifting bar. He was booking it with exercise, lifting himself maybe once every second.

Suzie, being the only cellmate who could visibly see Phil across the way, glanced at him every now and then.

"Phil." She called.

Phil stopped for a second, dropping to the floor and cracking his 90 year old back, "What's on your mind Suzie."

"Arnold, actually. Do you ever think about him? If he's okay?" Suzie asked.

After straightening his back out, Phil went back over to his bed and wiped the sweat from his wrinkly forehead on his cot mattress.

"About time you asked. I think about him every minute of every day. He's the only one getting me all excited to get out of here."

"I won't burst your bubble gramps, but have you ever thought these guys won't be done with us for a while?" Bob chimed in.

"Says you Pataki. Maybe you've forgotten the fatal flaw here." Phil replied.

"What would that be?" Suzie said.

"They're men. Most fallible creatures on the planet. They've all got something to hide, some reason to let us out. You know why they don't do it? Fear." Phil said.

"Yeah, because soldiers are always afraid." Bob said sarcastically.

"Fear is how I survived 'Nam Pataki. You would know, except oh that's right, _you weren't there_."

"Cut the shit Phil. Being in the states isn't exactly a walk in the park either. Owning a business, knowing you could be a target for espionage, all that bullshit…" Bob said.

Phil just scoffed and mumbled, "White collar garbage can."

"What'd you say?!" Bob erupted. Phil went to the corner of his cell where he was most audible to Bob.

"WHITE. COLLAR. GARBAGE. CAN!" Bob popped up from his sitting spot and ran to the corner where he could barely reach through the bars towards Phil's cell. There they were, two grown matured men with life experience, flailing their arms around through cell bars trying to get at each other's throats, but a concrete wall was the only thing keeping them separate.

The guard heard their struggle and ran into the room, he walked over to Phil and Bob's cell.

"Hey! Break it up you two!" He hollered. Bob was too furious to let a scrawny sergeant stop his anger.

As Bob continued to flail his arms, the guard pulled out his nightstick and got in close, trying to find Bob's sweet spot to get him to stop. But this soldier had completely forgotten the other party.

Phil, who was in reach of the soldier's rifle strap, grabbed for it, getting a good grip. He then tugged the soldier in. The soldier, completely taken aback struggled to reach for his pistol, but Phil was too quick, grabbing the soldier's other arm before it could grip the pistol from its holster. Instead, Phil took his first arm, and wrapped it around the soldier's neck through the bars, pulling hard against them. The struggle was audible but very quiet. Suzie just stood there, gripping her cell bars out of nervousness. Eventually the soldier stopped kicking and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Phil pulled the body in close till it was laying sideways against the cell door. Phil rummaged through the numerous pockets of the soldier's pants until he heard jangling metal. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a small ring of keys. Several of a large size, and three of a smaller size. He tucked the keys into his overalls pocket and looked in Bob's direction.

"Thanks for the help Pataki." Phil said very condescended.

Bob just stood there, rubbing the arm he had been flailing about, "Don't mention it gramps, still gonna get you back though."

Phil then stood up and walked over to his cot, a flimsy little frame made of wood, more like a tabletop then an actual sleeping spot. He reached for one of the legs, holding it with one hand, and gripping the actual cot piece with his other hand. He pulled very hard and eventually the leg snapped off. He then walked over to his cell door and kneeled down.

Suzie watched him from diagonally across the room.

"Phil what're you doing?" She asked.

"Setting the scene my darling." Phil responded as he took the cot leg and put it through the cell, pushing the soldier's body away from the cell door till it was closer to the middle of the floor. With some struggle, Phil was able to push the soldier till he was laying on his stomach side, arms spread, and much distant from the cell bars.

Even though Bob couldn't see Phil in his cell, he could see the body being pushed out and positioned, "They ain't gonna fall for that gramps."

"Just watch Pataki…" Phil muttered as he quickly put the leg to his cot bed back under it, the broken wood sliding into place like a puzzle piece. Just then another soldier came in, he glanced over at Suzie's cell but then noticed the guard on the floor. He immediately ran to the man's side.

"What happened!" He proclaimed. Phil just stood up, shrugged his shoulder.

"Fella took a couple whiffs in the air and then just crashed. Beats me." He said. Suzie and Bob looked in awe as the guard simply acknowledged Phil's comment and dragged the unconscious soldier out of the cell room.

Bob just stared at the guard walking out, while Suzie looked at Phil in complete awe. Phil in return looked at Suzie and just raised his hands like it was nothing, big smile on his face. In one of his hands, hanging by his index finger, was a small ring of keys.

"You were saying Bob?"

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To Be Continued


	12. Grounded

(Warning, this chapter contains one explicit racial term, if you are offended, please read with caution)

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 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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 _Grounded_

Phoebe and Harold loomed at the window. It was early in the morning and the red orange flare of the sun was just starting to peek over the trees. The two had their faces huddled around the largest window in Gerald and Phoebe's bedroom. Outside, they had their eyes settled on the single dark figure Phoebe had noticed the night before. However, at this moment, the dark figure appeared to have company. Four other figures surrounded him all in tattered clothing and swaying left and right. Harold looked at Phoebe.

"How the hell do you think they found us?" He asked.

"Beats me. I figured we had enough slop getting pumped out there to keep them away." She responded.

"I see you guys noticed the walkers too." Said a voice behind them. Phoebe and Harold turned around to see Nadine in the doorway, still in pajamas and both hands hanging on the door frame.

"What's going on Nadine?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah, that slop not getting pumped out enough?" Harold added.

"I was just about get Mr. Hyunh up and we were gonna take a look at it. How many are out there?" Nadine asked.

Phoebe looked back out the window, "Four, maybe five. They're too far away to tell." She said.

"Arnold and Gerald were supposed to get more ingredients for the slop while looking for Charlie, hope they're okay." Nadine replied.

"They're out there." Phoebe said almost instantly, her hands clenched, "Just taking their sweet time." She said again, shakiness in her voice. Harold lifted an arm and set his hand on her shoulder, Phoebe grabbed it in comfort.

Harold looked at Nadine, "We'll give them till noon and then we're going out to look for them, Get Eugene and Stinky up." He ordered.

"I'll get them. I hate looking out this window anyways." Phoebe said. All three of them left the room. Nadine walked upstairs and turned toward her room. Instead of going in, she turned toward Hyunh's room, inside she could hear heavy moaning and breathing. Slowly she opened the door and saw Mr. Hyunh curled up on his bed. His forehead was covered in sweat and saliva drooled from his tongue to his pillow. The moans he made echoed in Nadine's head. Familiar to her, she quickly reminisced about the helicopter that carried her parents. While she waited for another to pick her up, she watched as it burst in flames and went down, crashing into the side of a building. The horror look on Nadine's face was present both in her memory and at that moment while she watched Tai sleep.

Nadine took baby steps toward Hyunh as he violently shook in his dreams. She could hear him saying "Mai" repeatedly. She remembered Mai as his daughter, realizing he was dreaming about her. She took a couple more steps till she was in arm length. She lifted her hand and carefully set it on Hyunh's shoulder. Hyunh stirred with a violent jolt and his eyes spread open. He stared straight into Nadine's eyes with fear and then realized he was awake.

"Nadine?" He asked.

"Yes, Mr Hyunh, it's me. Bad dreams again?" Nadine asked.

"Yes Nadine, yes. Bad dreams. I miss Mai very badly." Hyunh responded.

"I know, I'm sure she's fine. Didn't you say she was in D.C. for school?" Hyunh sat up straight.

"Yes, she was supposed to come home after school was out. But then people starting attacking each other in this big mess. I never heard from her after that."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hyunh." Nadine said.

Hyunh then lifted his head and looked into Nadine's eyes. He lifted his hand and set it on her shoulder, "Nadine, you are like Mai in so many ways."

Nadine started to choke, "Thank you, Mr. Hyunh."

"Nadine, please, call me Tai." As Nadine looked into Hyunh's eyes, she felt comfortable.

"Tai…" she started, a tear trickled down her cheek. "I miss my family!" And with that she burst into tears and leapt into Tai's arms. Tai embraced her back, stroking her back like she would when Mai was much younger.

"I know Miss Nadine, I know. I miss my daughter too." He replied.

Nadine's tears soaked into Tai's shirt as she cried. She had found a father in Tai Hyunh.

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"I'm telling you Miles. She'll fly like a bird after my team's done with her." Jamie said to Miles as the two stared at a silver plated rusty plane in FTi Kappa's air hangar. Miles remembered this old junker, it belonged to his old friend Eduardo. It had never looked so nostalgic to him: the silver plating, the red stripe that wrapped around its body. Strange to find it in the hands of Future Tech, Miles thought.

Under the plane, near its gears, two army outfitted boys twisted on the wheels with wrenches in their hands. Miles put his good arm on Jamie's shoulder, "Thank you Jamie." Just then, the exit door swung inward and Victor entered the hangar, followed by another soldier dressed in similar attire to Jamie. His walk was very lanky, and goggles sat on his forehead which donned a very out-dated bowlcut hairstyle. He noticed Miles and raised his arms in excitement.

"Miles! How's it coming in here?" Victor said.

"Doing fine Victor. Corporation types aren't allowed here unfortunately."

"Cute, may I remind you what's at stake here? Remember who I have sitting in a cell adjacent to a locked up infected human being?" Victor said as he casually strolled toward Miles.

Instantly, Miles was reminded of his wife. He remembered Victor telling him earlier that day, "Get the plane working and you'll see Stella again." The words echoed in Miles' head as Victor walked up beside him, "She's looking good Miles. You picked a good team to work on her."

"Yeah, sure." Miles responded with a sigh.

"Do you know Lieutenant Johannson?" Victor asked. Miles looked at him in stunned shock, "The Lieutenant. I see you around him quite often, almost like you're old friends."

Miles thought quickly, as to not blow his cover, "Well he's got better hospitality matters than certain others in this shit hole." Miles responded.

"Oh Miles, don't say that. Remember we let you out of your cell to supervise the trip preparation." Victor said.

Miles clenched his fists, ready to slam them into Victor's face. Instead, Victor got in close, "I've got my infected subject ready to let loose on her if you don't do as I say." Victor whispered violently into Miles' ear. Miles looked at him in disgust.

"You go to hell." He murmured.

"Well that's exactly where we're going right?" Victor replied with a callous grin and a pat on Miles' shoulder as he turned. Jamie watched the soldier who followed Victor in. They locked eyes and the soldier gave a smirk to Jamie before turning away.

Miles watched as Victor walked away back toward the hangar exit. When he was out of ear shot, Miles looked back to see Jamie still watching them.

"You know that guy with Victor?" Miles asked. Jamie looked at him then back at the door. Victor and the soldier were gone.

"No no, just reminding myself who we're gonna fuck over with this plan of ours."

Jamie slowly morphed his lips into a smile, Miles did the same and gave him a small nod.

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A knock on the door disturbed Nadine's and Tai's embrace. The knock reverberated through the living room, drawing the attention of Eugene and Stinky who were in the living room. Both stood up and walked over to the front door. Stinky stood by as Eugene gripped the doorknob and twisted it. Eugene pulled the door back a couple inches until it was thrusted open and slammed him in the face.

It launched him backward but Stinky caught him before he hit the floor. Just then, the front door swung open completely and standing in the frame was Arnold, hands behind his back and a piece of duct tape over his mouth. Arnold was shoved inside by Sid who was behind him as his posse entered the house.

"We made it." Sid said joyously. Brig came in dragging Gerald and Charlie while Chet dragged in Helga, a sack over her head.

"Bring them all in here, the ginger and country boy too." Sid ordered. By then, Sid's gang and their hostages were all in the living room. Drawn in by the raucous downstairs, Tai and Nadine treaded slowly down the stairs to see the hostages and Sid towering over them. He turned around and saw the two, instantly aiming his shotgun at them.

"Oh good, more company. Please come on down guys, don't be shy." Sid said. Carefully, Tai and Nadine walked down, Tai holding Nadine's shoulder tightly. Brig saw Phoebe and Harold in the kitchen and caught them before they could hide, thrusting them into the living room as well.

Once they sat down on the couch, Sid walked over everyone and knelt down in front of them.

"Sid?!" Eugene cried in surprise.

"Eugene! In the flesh!" Sid chuckled, "Glad to see you're alive and still as gingery as ever!" He said, "And Stinky! Man you haven't grown since 6th grade." Stinky could only clutch his fists at his former best friend's treachery.

"Why are you here Sid?" Phoebe asked.

"Well Arnold here invited me to your humble abode for a scavenger hunt. How could I say no to that football headed face?" Sid said, gesturing to the bound Arnold slumped on the floor against the wall.

"Fuck that Sid, What do you want?" Harold chimed in.

"I see that yuppie fun bag girlfriend hasn't destroyed your backbone eh Harold?" Sid snickered.

"Fuck you, at least I'm not threatening my friends at gun point." Harold snapped back.

Sid just shrugged, "Look, if you guys work with us, we'll be out of your hair in minutes. We're gonna take what we want but we'll leave you with something to work with for a couple days' time. You guys can head on west in that ol' junker of Stinky's and we'll head north. Everybody gets a merry Christmas."

"That's flat out robbery, Sid. We won't last two days if you take even a tea spoon of what we've got left." Stinky said.

"Grow up Stinky, you can live on tree bark can't you?" Sid replied, his taunts only infuriating Stinky even more.

"Okay Brig and I are gonna sift through the house. Chet is gonna keep an eye on all of you. Let's go." With that, Brig and Sid disappeared into the house while Chet stood guard over everybody else. In particular, he eyeballed Arnold, still gagged, waiting for his time to strike his football headed nemesis.

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A new guard had been posted. Phil slumped in his barely stable cot after breaking off the leg from his earlier stunt. He pinched the cell keys in his hand, pondering his next move.

"Hey Gramps." Bob called.

"What is it Bob?" Phil asked.

"When are we gonna get outta here?" Bob asked.

"In due time Bob. We had to obtain the means to get out first, remember?" Phil said as he jingled the keys in his hand.

"Well make it snappy old man. I'm not gonna rot in this prison while my little girl is out there with those flesh addicts."

"You'll be sipping a strawberry shake with Helga in no time." Phil said.

"That'd be nice save for the fact Helga is allergic. You'd remember that if you took time to remember her god damn name and spent time with her!" Bob said, Phil surprised at his friend's sudden passion for his daughter.

"Excuse me Boberoni, this ol' thinker in my head ain't what it used to be. Pardon me if I ever mistook your daughter for a man with that one eyebrow of hers!"

"Hey you're senile, what can you do?" Bob said sarcastically.

"Better watch it Bob." Phil growled, "This mind may be aging, but these muscles, as you could see, are still full of life."

"Guys stop it." Suzie hollered, "Knock it off. You guys are family, remember? We all are, Even in the darkest of situations we can't lose our heads." She said again.

Bob and Phil just sneered, and walked away from the corners.

Just then, a metal grinding sound echoed the hall, jumping the three to their feet. They looked to the door as it slid open. First in came two guards, then a man in a white lab coat. But it wasn't Victor. It was a much shorter man, slim body and lanky arms. He walked past the guards and stood in the middle of the hall. As he turned back toward the exit, he observed each individual in their cell. Once he finished his 180, he said,

"Bring all of them." He said, "Boss' orders."

"Like shit you are." Bob hollered. The scientist walked up to the guards.

"You know how to deal with _him_." He said, gesturing toward Bob. Just then the guards whipped out their nightsticks and approached Bob's cell.

"You boys wanna dance again? Guess you don't wanna have children after all." Bob growled. While the guards struggled with him, the scientist politely walked over to Suzie's cell and walked her out. As he did this, Phil quietly took the cell keys out of his overalls and jammed them between the cell wall and the cot, successfully hiding them from plain view.

Once Suzie was out, the scientist walked over to Phil's cell and opened the door, "Alright old timer. On your feet." Phil walked out and followed the scientist, walking next to Suzie. Behind them came the two guards, dragging an unconscious Bob between their arms.

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Sid and his gang had finished with the basement, grabbing the remnants of the group's slop ingredients and the twenty gallons of water stored away in the broken fridge. All of it was taken and stored away in Sid's truck as well as the backseat of the humvee.

Arnold looked over to Eugene who was next to him on the couch. Eugene saw his eyes and looked at him. Arnold proceeded to nudge his eyes toward his hands which were still tied. As Eugene got up to undo Arnold's bindings, Chet cocked his rifle.

"Watch it ginger, another step and you're dead." He said.

"Come on man. You've already got a gun in our faces, the least you can give this is some leg room." He said.

"The rope stays on, I have unfinished business with this fucker." He said, pointing his gun at the helpless Arnold.

Arnold mumbled through his tape. Chet could only sneer, "Sorry what was that kid?" He asked, gesturing Eugene to take the tape off.

Once his mouth was clear, Arnold spoke, "What about Helga, at least take the bag off her head!"

"Blow me." Chet replied.

Angrily, Gerald stood up and walked over to Chet who cautiously turned his gun in Gerald's directions. "Take the sack off her head, now…" Gerald ordered.

"Sit back down kid, don't do anything stupid." Chet said.

Gerald clenched his fist, "I'm gonna tell you one last time."

Chet, knowing a random death would not sit well with the general population, looked right into Gerald's face, "Any sudden movements and you're dead." He flicked his gun towards Helga.

Gerald looked back at Arnold, "Go ahead brother." Arnold then got up and walked over to Helga and knelt down by her, "Don't know why you'd want to free that annoying bitch." Chet mumbled. Arnold struggled to take the bag off with his binded hands but he was able to. Helga squinted at the lowlight conditions but her eyes eventually adapted. She of course had tape on her mouth as well.

Arnold then stood up and walked towards Chet. "What'd you just say? What the fuck did you just say?" Without thinking twice, he shoved Gerald out of the way and charged at him. Even with his binded hands. Arnold was still able to get Chet on the ground. As Arnold struggled to regain his strength and go in for another strike, Chet quickly retaliated with a hit to Arnold's stomach with the butt of his rifle, knocking him off. Arnold fell to the ground, grunting in pain.

"Keep trying pussy, you'll get your turn with me." Chet murmured, almost sounding sadistic. Sid heard the commotion and trampled down the stairs.

"Hey, what's going on down here?" Sid asked.

"This asshole tried to jump me." Chet replied.

"Stay away from him. I'll handle this." Sid said as he walked over to Arnold on the ground and knelt down.

"Arnold, we had a deal remember? If the boys hear I think you're going back on it, then it won't be a good time for anybody in this room, understand?" Sid asked.

"Fuck you Sid." Gerald said, standing off to the side. Sid looked at him and nodded, "I'm trying to keep you guys alive. If you wanna get out of here with Helga in one piece, shut the fuck up and let us work."

"Going soft Sid? Let's just waste all of them and take everything they have!" Chet asked, waving his rifle over the entire hostage party in the room.

"Shut up Chet. Get this guy back on his feet and on the couch. Brig and I are gonna keep looking upstairs." Sid ordered. Chet sighed in frustration, a hint of doubt in his breathing.

Just then, Brig came down the steps quickly, "Guys, come check this out!" Sid and Chet looked at the stairs and quickly raced up the steps. Sid looked back.

"Don't go nowhere ladies and gentlemen." With that, Sid disappeared to the second floor. Sid and Chet entered into Nadine's room where Brig stood victoriously over a small cooler.

"What'd you find Brig?" Chet asked. With that, Brig lifted the cooler lid with his foot to reveal a canvas of small round red objects, it was an apple stash. Nadine heard the commotion and realized what it was they found.

"Arnold" She whispered loudly.

"What?" Arnold whispered back as Gerald helped him back to his feet.

"They found the apples I kept under my bed."

"Let them drool over them, in the mean time we're getting out of here. Get Gerald some cold water and untie Charlie." With that everybody stood up, Phoebe ran to Gerald's arms, the two wrapped each other in a tight hug.

"I missed you so much." Phoebe mumbled as she smeared her face into Gerald's shirt.

"It's okay Phoebe, hey keep a straight head, we're gettin outta here." He replied.

Meanwhile, Arnold walked over to Helga who was still slumped against the wall and the sack still over her head.

"Helga." Arnold started as he knelt down. Instantly, Helga turned her head sideways. Arnold leaned in closer and set his hand on her cheek, slowly pulling her face back towards him.

"Look," Arnold started as he looked into her eyes, the sweat on her forehead being soaked into her black ski cap, "I want to assure you, I tried to look for you after we left Hillwood. Gerald told me you went silent after looking for supplies. I can't tell you how scared I was, thinking what could've happened to you…"

Helga started to mumble through the tape that covered her mouth. Arnold very subtely and quickly ripped it from her mouth. Helga grunted in pain a few times and looked back at Arnold.

"It's not that you dumb football head…" She started, "I saw how you were treating Charlie. I never could figure it out till I realized I had to break him out."

"You.. you saw us?" Arnold asked.

"I staked out your house from across the street for two days. I've been following you since you left Hillwood. When you came here, I wanted to be sure it was just you guys and not more creeping bandits like I had to put up with on the road. When I saw Charlie locked up in that room I knew I had to do something."

"But Helga," Stinky whispered loudly, "Charlie was locked up with probable cause. He was bitten."

"What?" Helga asked, surprised.

"Yeah, on the leg. He didn't change right away and he hasn't yet. We had to put him away to know for sure." Gerald said.

Helga looked at Gerald then back at Stinky, and then back to Arnold, "They're right Helga. We never meant to harm him."

"It's okay Helga, they never hurt me. Even I was scared." Charlie knelt over and chimed in.

Helga continued to stare into Arnold's eyes as he started to smile.

Her lip started to quiver, it became a bit crooked and almost instantly she leapt into Arnold's arms, and broke out sobbing. Arnold stroked her back and could hear her say, "I'm so sorry."

Their touching moment was interrupted by a loud "Fuck you!" from upstairs. Arnold broke his and Helga's embrace.

"You guys wait here." Arnold said as he walked up the stairs.

"Arnold are you crazy?!" Harold murmured.

"Sid's not a bad guy. He'd never go this far. I'm gonna try to talk him down." Arnold replied as he continued to head upstairs. From behind the wall, he could see a half of Brig's body in a stout posture. As he got closer, he saw more of Brig's body, his hands raised a bit. When he saw the entirety of the room, he saw Sid and Chet aiming their guns at each other and Sid had one hand raised.

"Fuck you Sid, you're skimping us with this fucking deal." Chet hollered.

"Just cuz I want the apples in my truck?" Sid replied.

"You've been going stingy on us for a long time, you get the luxury and we get the shit." Chet said. Sid saw Arnold out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, what makes us think you're not gonna put all the _real_ goodies in your truck and drive off without us!" Brig added.

"Call us your buds? You're gonna fuck us over and at the same time call us buds?" Chet said, "You know what? I'm tired of your shit."

" You promised us a luxurious life and you tell these fuckers you're gonna leave them supplies for two days? That's all they have is shit for two days, dumbass!" Brig added again.

"Look, I'll get you food and water I promise. They had those twenty gallons remember? We've got the jackpot! All we gotta do is take their cars and go north."

"Bullshit. That's all you've given us is bullshit. We're taking these apples, and we're taking the cars. You can stay here and rot with these fuckwits…" Chet said. Sid kept his pistol aimed toward Chet. "What if we just killed you? How's that? What if we tied you down and sliced you open. Maybe you'll see how full of shit you are!" Chet said.

"Like hell you are!" Sid snapped.

"Like hell you ain't!" Brig replied, with that he lunged at Sid who tried to turn but before he got a shot off, Brig had him thrown on Nadine's bed. They struggled as Chet approached them. Brig reached for Sid's gun, still gripped in Sid's hand. Sid was underestimated by the two. As Chet towered over them.

"Hold him down Brig, I'll get my knives." But then out of nowhere, Sid got the upper hand, the gun still in his hand. He twisted his arm, aiming the gun at Chet and fired three shots.

Chet launched backwards. Brig was so stunned, Sid was able to pelt him with the butt of the gun and regained his freedom. Chet laid down, breathing heavily, clutching his chest where the bullets pierced him. Sid aimed the gun at Brig who was on the ground.

"Sid…don't." Arnold mumbled, laying against the wall, covering himself from what had just happened, "Remember who you are."

Sid just stood there, his eyes wide open in fright. Brig felt just as scared. Sid's hand that held the pistol shook violently, "Sid," Arnold said, "Please."

With that, Sid slowly lowered the pistol. Brig jumped up and sped out of the room, toppling down the stairs and burst out the front door, running up to Sid's truck for which he had the key. As Brig sped off, Arnold approached Sid up in the bedroom. He held out his arm.

"Sid, give me the gun." Arnold said. Sid just stood there motionless, realizing that he had just killed a human being….for the first time, "Sid.." Arnold whispered.

Sid loosened his grip on the gun and Arnold slowly pulled it away from his hand. Once he got full control, he popped out the clip and emptied the bullets from the chamber. As Arnold put the pistol in his pocket, Gerald came running up the stairs.

"What happened?" He asked. Arnold motioned to Chet's motionless corpse.

"What do you think?"

"Jeez," Gerald exclaimed, "Sid you okay?" Sid gave no response. He just stood there lifeless.

"Gerald, get Chet's body out of here and go get the stuff they put in the humvee." Arnold said.

"Brig took off in Sid's truck." Gerald responded.

"Just grab everything that they loaded up. We'll go after Brig later. Sid…take a deep breath. You killed someone, but you had a right to. Know that." As Arnold spoke, Gerald grabbed Chet by his limp arms and dragged the body all the way out of the room, leaving a small trail of blood behind.

Sid slowly lowered his arm and slumped onto Nadine's bed. He put his hands on his forehead and took a deep breath, letting it out in sobs. As he cried, Arnold and Gerald stood over him. They looked at each other and left Sid alone.

"He'll be alright." Arnold said as he closed the door.

"What makes you think he's not gonna kick the window out in Charlie's cell and book it?" Gerald asked cautiously.

"It's Sid, Gerald. He'll be back to normal I know it." Arnold said, he looked down at Chet's body, "Let's get this thing out of here."

As the two lifted the corpse to toss it outside, Gerald said, "With Helga and Sid back…sheesh, gang's all back together again…what a day."

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Victor walked down the dimly lit hallway till he came to a door. He scanned his thumb on the wall scanner and entered. Inside, the scientist that had taken the three prisoners out of their cells was sitting at a computer. On the opposite wall was a large plate glass window, on the other side were Susan, Bob, and Phil lined up in chairs, handcuffed and looking around. Next to them was a fourth party, she had brown hair that drooped over her face. Phil was looking at her the whole time, trying to comfort her from his locked up position. Victor read his lips and could read him saying,

"Stella…Stella it's gonna be okay."

"How are our guests?" Victor asked.

"Impatient, serum still hasn't been delivered yet." The scientist said.

"And our subject?" Victor asked. He and the scientist looked to the right where on the other side of a large set of bars, an infected human waltzed around, a chain tying his neck to a loop in the wall.

"He's hungry. We're gonna attempt extraction one more time before the year is out." Victor observed all his test subjects.

"I want testing and results done immediately. We leave for San Lorenzo in four months." He said.

The scientist replied, "Yes sir." and continued to record observations as Suzie screamed in horror from the infected growling at her. Phil continued to hopelessly get Stella to look at him, all looking like animals in a cage...

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To be continued.


	13. Brought Together

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Brought Together_

It was the day after Sid's bandits attacked the house. Chet's blood still pooled in Nadine's room. Arnold offered a trade up till they got it cleaned up. Gerald had gotten rid of Chet's body by driving it out of the subdivision. While driving, he noticed the horde Phoebe was watching from their bedroom window. It had surprisingly grown in size. Gerald had hoped to get their attention by driving and leading them away from the house but only a few chased him.

Gerald realized it was only a matter of time before they'd get close to their house and start catching their scent. Gerald had to maneuver quickly through the street which the horde had spilt onto. The runners could barely keep up with Gerald's truck, of course he got away scott-free.

The parking lot Gerald pulled into was empty, abandoned. Not a stroke of life or lack there of. After dumping Chet's body in the middle of it. Gerald prepared to hop back in Stinky's truck to drive back when a faint red light caught his attention. He looked towards it and saw a billowing cloud of smoke climbing into the pale sky. He looked toward the source where he saw a tree, crushed and distorted by Sid's truck which was smashed into the side, it's brake lights still glowing. The morning darkness made it difficult to see inside and Gerald decided to examine it closer.

He drew his pistol and aimed it at the truck, walking around to the side of the driver's seat. Inside, Gerald could see a large mass slumped against the steering wheel. Gerald cautiously reached for the handle and gripped it tightly. He gave it a good pull and thrusted the door open. A lifeless Brig came spilling out of the driver's seat and fell on the ground. He had a stunned look on his face and his forehead was crushed inward. Gerald stepped back in shock and shook his head in disgust.

"Son of a bitch." He mumbled, more irritated that the truck was now rendered useless rather than the unfortunate death of Brig.

Just then, a scream caught his ear, "Someone help!" cried a feminine voice, Gerald looked toward the hill that was adjacent to the truck. He walked over to the top and looked down.

The voice grew louder, "Please!" It sounded foreign. Gerald could see a car, sitting at the bottom of the hill, turned over and its wheels still turning. The voice uttered once more, "Somebody, please! Anybody!" Gerald could hear the voice coming from the car. The driver's seat was empty but Gerald could hear the person struggling on the passenger side. He quickly slid down the hill, the dirt clumps rolled down with him, their tapping giving off a louder pinpoint of Gerald's location.

When he got to the car, he saw the person, a young girl with black hair and a torn red blouse. Gerald grabbed her by the shoulders and prepared to pull.

"Okay hun, I gotcha." Gerald said.

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!" the voice said, her ethnicity getting clearer and clearer.

"No problem miss, you get swiped or something?" Gerald asked.

As Gerald got the injured girl to her feet she said, "Some panicked idiot didn't have his lights on, knocked me off the hill and next thing I know I'm pinned to my seat. Is he dead?" Gerald looked up at Sid's truck at the top of the hill.

"Yeah he's dead alright." Gerald said. The girl was surprisingly taller than him. He looked into her face, blood running down the side of her cheek from an open head wound.

"Name's Gerald." He said, reaching out his hand.

"Mai, Mai Hyunh." The girl responded, grabbing Gerald's hand in response.

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Phil and the others were back in their cell after the latest batch of experiments. Bob was still unconscious, Suzie was curled up on her cot, and Phil sat, squeezing his cot tightly, Suzie whispered to him, "Phil, you okay?"

No response, "Phil!" She whispered loudly.

Phil continued to rock back and forth, "They keep my daughter-in-law locked up next to that thing, day…and night." Phil uttered, "What kind of supreme being lets such monstrosity into the human mind?"

"It's gonna be okay Phil. She looked fine to me." Suzie said.

"Fine?!" Phil roared, "She's locked in a cell like us, sure, but there's a god damn zombie right next to her!"

Just then the door swung open, and Victor's voice said as he walked in, "The politically correct term is infected."

"Who the hell are you?" Phil asked.

"Victor Richtofen. Pleased to finally meet the father of one of my brightest." Victor said as he reached his hand out for a handshake from Phil. Phil refused sticking his hand through the bars and kept them crossed on his chest.

"What are you doing here?" Suzie asked.

"Well I've had you guys in here for quite some time so I'd figured I'd get you all acquainted on the situation."

"Where's my son?" Phil interrupted.

"In due time Mr. Shortman, rest assured your family is secure here at my station, getting the top medical treatment money can buy."

"You ain't a hospital, you're just a greedy superpower who wants to make a buck from millions of people dying."

"Not quite millions. So far we've got reports of infection in the entire East coast and maybe a few states in the Midwest. Sounds like the military and their FTi affiliates have helped prevent any more spreading west." Victor said very condescended.

"Oh gee, I apologize for being so inaccurate. Tell me, what the hell are you doing with my daughter-in-law locked up next to one of your 'infected' pets?" Phil asked.

"That's classified Mr. Shortman. As bad as I want to tell you, I can say it's a test of mental integrity for future experiments." Victor replied.

"Experiments?! There are dead people rising from the grave out there you moron! You don't need variables to determine that!" Phil angrily hollered.

"Phil," Victor replied, speaking calmly, "This is on a much larger scale than you and even I can fathom. In due time, you'll understand what we're doing. I want to assure you we mean you no harm. The cells are just a precaution because we knew you wouldn't cooperate _at first_. I promise when I find some vacancy, I'll have all of you transferred to a nicer place. All I ask for is your cooperation and patience." Victor said as he looked at Phil again, raising his hand for a handshake, "We're the good guys here Phil."

Phil, still unconvinced, reluctantly stretched his hand out through the bar and grabbed Victor's, shaking it several times, his snake grip causing Victor to writhe in minor pain.

Out of nowhere, Victor brought out a small syringe with his other hand and poked Phil's wrist with it. Phil attempted to pull his hand back but Victor's young muscles were too much for him. Phil finally obtained freedom of his hand but it was too late. He started to stagger, gasping for breath as he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Victor turned around and looked at Suzie.

"He's going to wake up with no memory of the last two days. If you're feeling wise you won't bring him 'up to speed' when he wakes up. Understood?"

Suzie just nodded slightly, stiff in her place. Her eyes darted between Victor and the ground, afraid that his needle would come any closer to her.

Victor then turned and left the room, leaving Suzie nervously pinching the skin on her hand. Meanwhile, Victor walked down to the lab where Stella and their subject were. The lead scientist sat in his chair, writing on a notepad.

"Norrington, send a four man squad east. Think it's time we find our subjects and bring them in." Victor ordered.

"Yes sir, who do you want?" Norrington asked.

"How about the 53rd, Torvald, Gammel, Turner and Granger. If our subjects have gotten out of Hillwood, they couldn't have gotten farther than Pennsylvania. Drop them there." Victor ordered.

"Yes sir."

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The entire group circled the dinner table, each enjoying their slim ration for breakfast. However, Helga sat in the living room, dazed on the couch. Nadine and Tai were upstairs in the loft looking at photos of Mai and talking to another, their smiles reminiscent of a time long past, not clouded in chaos and death.

Just then, the front door swung open, "I need some help here now!" Gerald hollered, carrying Mai, more bloodied than when he found her. Gerald approached the couch and Helga quickly hopped up. Gerald's legs started to shake but was able to gently set Mai on the couch. She grunted in pain, clutching her leg which was bleeding profusely from the thigh. The people at the dinner table came piling into the room and circled around Mai on the couch.

"What happened?" Phoebe asked.

"Found Sid's truck, Brig knocked her down a hill and got himself killed." Gerald replied.

"Where's Mr. Hyunh?" Arnold asked.

"Upstairs." Eugene answered. As Arnold started to go upstairs to get him, Gerald stopped him.

"Arnold wait." He said.

"Gerald, Mr. Hyunh's been separated from his daughter ever since this happened. He deserves to see her."

"You want Mr. Hyunh to see his daughter like this? Remember how you reacted when you first saw Helga?" Gerald responded, Arnold fell silent. Meanwhile, Sid stood by and drooped his head, realizing what he thought he was responsible for.

Arnold turned and glanced at Helga who saw him but quickly turned her head the other way. He receded down the stairs. "Let's just stay quiet and see if we can clean her up, she's got a cut in her thigh and maybe something wrong with her head. Phoebe get a couple of towels from that linen closet in our room, and Eugene get some alcohol pads and ibuprofen for these cuts." Gerald ordered. With that, Phoebe and Eugene went off to get it.

Arnold looked back over to where Helga was standing but saw she wasn't there. He went into the kitchen but no sign of her there either. Just then he looked out the window where he saw Helga's black ski cap resting on the deck banister and could barely see her slumped on the deck floor. He carefully opened the door and walked over to her. Arnold took a whiff of the cool air and noticed the smell of slop was absent. Arnold walked over and sat down next to her.

"You know, the only way to stay protected is to stay indoors at all times." Arnold said sarcastically, with a smirk.

"Funny, football head." Helga responded, not amused. Arnold fell silent.

"What's up with you? Why are you so quiet?" Arnold asked.

"Arnold," Helga sighed, "Don't start this. Don't talk like you don't know what I've been through."

"Maybe I have no idea but at least I'm curious and maybe I can help." Arnold said, "Why did you stake us out? Why not just pop in and say hello?"

"Because I thought you all had changed. You have mindless zombies to outrun and all you can think about is locking your friends up. What is that?!" Helga started to get frantic.

"Helga it wasn't my call…" Arnold said.

"Stop it Arnold! I went through hell and back to rescue that kid from you. To find out that, and all I went through after was for nothing.." Helga started to sob, "They beat us down when they caught us. Sid didn't even pretend to not recognize me…He didn't care. Didn't even do anything when Brig and Chet jumped me and took me back behind the…" With that, Helga choked, and let her head drop into her arms. Her whole body began to shake. Arnold scooted closer, feeling her warmth against his skin. She began to cry harder, Arnold drew her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry Helga. Sorry I wasn't there. I didn't know you went through so much."

Helga just continued to cry into his shirt, her tears getting soaked up by the fabric. Just then, Arnold could hear her mumble, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too Helga." Arnold responded, Helga squeezed Arnold's shirt tighter.

Suddenly, their moment was cut short when they heard a low growl. They both perked up their heads and looked out, they could barely see anything except for the large horde a mile away from their house. The sound was too close to be from them. Arnold looked over the side of the banister where he saw an infected man in a blue denim jacket, swaying back and forth right underneath them. Arnold quickly ducked, breathing heavily.

"What? What is it?" Helga asked.

"One of them.." Arnold whispered. Helga prepared to scream, but Arnold quickly clapped his hand over her mouth and shushed her, "they don't know we're here, let's keep it that way, alright?" He asked, frantically. Helga nodded quickly.

"Be very still," Arnold said as he pulled his hand away from her mouth, "No sudden movements, and let's get back inside."He said. Quietly, Arnold and Helga crawled back into the house. Helga's shoulder brushed against the door and made it creak a little bit. They could hear the infected man audibly growled but saw no sign of him coming up the deck stairs. Quickly they shut the door and locked it. Arnold stood up and walked into the commotion of the living room.

"Guys, quiet!" He whispered loudly. The room started to fall silent and everybody looked at Arnold. Mai continued to breath and grunt heavily, her thigh was still bleeding profusely. The blood on her head had been cleaned off. Arnold quickly dashed over to her.

"Mai, I know your thigh hurts, but you need to take the pain or the infected will find us." Mai continued to groan.

"Arnold what's going on?" Eugene asked.

"There's infected right under our deck, basement level." Arnold answered. The group gasped together in shock.

"How the hell did they find us?" Harold asked.

"I don't know, but we need to stay quiet."

"Mai?" said a voice from the stairs. Arnold looked over and saw Tai and Nadine standing on the stairs. Instantly he came dashing down the stairs to Mai while hollering her name once more. Everyone tried to silence him as he shouted in tears at Mai, speaking his native language.

"Mr. Hyunh, quiet!" Arnold said. Tai continued to shout as everyone tried to silence him, then all of a sudden, a slam came from the back door. Arnold scooted over to the wall and peaked around the corner. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the infected man wearing a denim jacket standing at the doorway, his eyes a pale green and skin a greyish color and very gritty. Arnold snapped back behind the wall and gave everyone the shush signal.

"He's right there!" Arnold whispered. Everyone fell silent, Tai moaned Mai's name in tears, clutching her hand tightly. Nadine stood by and rubbed his shoulder in comfort.

Gerald walked up to Arnold, "Well, what now survivalist?"

"I don't know Gerald." Arnold said as he looked around the corner at the infected man, still standing there, rubbing his hands up and down the door, "I really don't know."

Outside, the horde they have been watching slowly started to creep closer to their house. They knew that if a horde that size found their sanctuary. They'd be...

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To Be Continued


	14. Search and Rescue

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Search and "Rescue"_

"Give it another go!" Miles hollered as he stood by while Jamie sat in the pilot's seat of Eduardo's plane, cranking the throttle to get the plane running. A sound echoed like the blow from a shotgun, then smoke billowed from the rear end of the plane. The propellers spun at their fastest rpm then suddenly creaked to a stop. A low hum uttered from the engine and the plane vibrated on the ground.

All of a sudden, there was another much louder gunshot sound from the plane's left wing, Miles could see sparks coming from it as the plane began to shake more vigorously. Miles looked at Jamie in the cockpit and waved at him to kill the engine. Slowly the plane's engine hummed to a stop and Miles walked over to the hatch on the side of the plane. The stairs rolled downward and Jamie came walking out of the plane.

"It's that damn propeller again." Miles said.

"Well what did we expect Miles? This baby is over twenty years old and Victor expects us to have it up and running in a couple months?"

"Besides stating the obvious, that's your specialty Jamie." Miles said as he patted Jamie on the shoulder, "I'm gonna go look at the map again." Miles walked away from Jamie who headed over to the problem area to begin working on it.

Mile's desk was sitting in the corner of the hangar, papers strewn across the surface and a small electronic lamp emitted a subtle light that cascaded over Miles' papers. His map was unfolded across the entire table with old and new markings written all over it. Miles grabbed a wooden chair and pulled it under him as he sat at the desk. To the left of the map was a small slip of paper given to him by Victor, with printed numbers on the top and bottom of it. Miles glanced at this small slip of paper before he moved his eyes back over to the map. Just then, he noticed something. In the top left corner of the map, there were other numbers scrawled in handwriting, Miles' own calculations of the latitude and longitude of San Lorenzo.

With one hand, he reached over and grabbed a large metal compass and stood it up on top of the map, gently setting the needle on the map, occasionally glancing at the small slip of paper with Victor's coordinates on it. With the pencil lead tip of the compass, Miles began to draw a circle on the map. The pencil drawn line began to form around the main island. As the circle closed itself, Miles' eyes started to widen. Once he finished drawing, he dropped the compass and set his eyes back on the numbers on the map and then back at the numbers on the slip of paper. He then backed away from the table to look at the larger circle he just drew. He looked in awe to see the circle partially cutting through the main island, slicing a third of the island off from the rest of the island within the circle. Miles started to put the pieces together in his head and realized what this could've meant. Instantly, Miles stood up and walked over to the soldier standing guard at the hangar exit.

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The denim jacket zombie continued to roam around on the deck. Arnold and the group moved down to the basement to keep quiet, and hopefully draw their human scent further away from the doors and windows upstairs. Gerald checked on the main floor and peaked toward the backdoor, then came crawling down the stairs and scooted over to the group who was huddled in the back. Mai was laid out on the floor, Tai holding her hand and helping her breath through the pain in her body.

"Still out there. I think he's got company too." Gerald whispered.

"What now?" Stinky asked.

"Only a matter of time before the slop is completely out, they're gonna smell us." Nadine murmured.

"Everybody just relax. They'll be gone in a bit, the horde's not that big, we'll just-" Arnold started.

"Arnold, now is not the time for optimism, we're gonna be dead here in a few minutes, can you not just accept that?!" Gerald said bluntly.

"Well if we-" Arnold began, then all of a sudden, flashes started to zip through Arnold's head, he clutched his head in pain. A whole array of colors filled Arnold's mind as Gerald crawled over to his aid, whispering his name and trying to keep him calm and quiet.

Images started to flash in Arnold's head. They were blurry but Arnold could hear rapid fire gunshots, some human shouting. He could see bodies falling to the floor, and a pinging sound like metal clanging. Then an explosion echoed in his brain as the flashes stopped. Arnold came back to his senses and saw Gerald looking at him.

"It's happening again, isn't it?" He asked. Arnold just looked at the carpet and then at Gerald again, "What'd you see this time?"

"We're not gonna die Gerald."

"What?"

"We're not gonna die. We'll be okay." Arnold said as he began to scoot away from the group and began to head upstairs.

"Arnold are you insane? What the hell are you doing going up there."

"Gerald, I said we'll be alright." Arnold said.

"Arnold, how can you be sure?" Phoebe asked frantically.

"I don't know, just keep your heads down and listen." Arnold said as he looked up the stairs. Everybody else did the same. There was silence, and every now and then the pitter patter of feet. Presumably the denim jacketed zombie was still wandering around on the deck.

Out of nowhere, the group heard the screeching of tires, slamming doors and then gunshots, rapid fire and echoing. To Arnold, they sounded familiar; but to everybody else it was still terrifying, not knowing what they were or where they were coming from. The gunshots continued to roar for another minute, traveling around the room from different directions. The flashes shot through the closed windows, lighting the basement with every split second.

Arnold listened in awe as the sounds echoed his vision. All of a sudden he remembered how it was going to end.

"Everybody stay down!" He cried. The group then ducked and grasped their heads. Arnold couldn't hear the metal clanging he heard in his vision but he and the others most definitely heard the explosion afterward. It was faint but the shock quaked through and shook the entire house. Silence fell on them, and Arnold stood up. He walked toward the stairs and looked up at the closed door, buried in darkness at the top of the stairs. Gerald called out his name.

"What are you doing? Get back here dude!" Gerald said.

"Gerald, they're gone."

"How the hell do you know?"

Arnold looked back at him, "Gerald, maybe it's time to stop asking questions and find out where those gunshots came from."

"Whatever you say man." Gerald said as he reached down and pulled his pistol out of his pants pocket, cocking it once, loading the chamber with a bullet. Arnold looked back at the group.

"Just stay down everyone, we'll be right back." He said.

"Be careful Arnold." Helga said as Phoebe shushed her, setting her back on the ground. To herself, Helga mumbled, "Dumb football head..."

Arnold headed up the stairs and Gerald followed, staying five feet behind him. As the two reached the top of the stairs, Arnold carefully pushed the door open. As it swung open the two looked around, Arnold could hardly see the window to the deck where he couldn't see the denim jacketed zombie.

Just then, three loud slams came from the front door. Arnold and Gerald walked around the corner and arrived at the front door where they heard the same three loud slams again, this time louder and harder. Gerald scooted back and readied his pistol, still holstered. Arnold walked to the doorknob which he gripped tightly and began to twist.

Arnold then swung the door open and Gerald stood his ground. But as the door swung open entirely, Gerald just gaped his mouth when he saw three people, one wearing a trademark bandana and the one to his left with round red rimmed glasses. Arnold took a glance himself and saw the three suited men holding assault rifles. Smoke billowed from behind them. Among them were their old friends, Torvald McKinley, in his tall figure, and Curly Gammelthorpe with that crazed look in his eye and heavy breathing from the action.

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"I'm telling you Victor, this operation is a bad idea. You saw what I saw."

"I gave you coordinates, Miles, you were supposed to copy them to the flight plan. That was your current assignment, not to act as carthologist. It's a map, not a bible."

"Did you even take the time to look at it? The coordinates are completely different from what your scientists came up with. Does that not sound eerie in the slightest?" Miles argued.

"If it was a hundred degrees, sure, I'd shit my pants. But we're talking ten degrees in both longitude and latitude here. Aside from possible human error, I'm pretty sure it's just the fact that your map is old."

"This is not just an old map you ignorant shit! There's something here we're not able to understand yet!"

"Miles, you're a consultant in this mission, nothing more. If you think there's an error, you can bring it up when we land. We're flying out in forty two days, do your job and we'll let you and your family go."

"Victor I'm telling you, we need to call this off. Say we set a flight plan and it works but what about when we land. The fact that my map and your stats are different says that something is up. I'm going back to Lieutenant Johannson and tell him what I know." Miles said as he started to head out.

"You will do no such thing Miles." Victor started, "Remember, you are not in control just because I let you out of your cell to help us with our project. If you have something logical to add to the mission, please, enlighten me. But, your supernatural talk needs to stay in your head. Remember what happens if you make a mistake." Victor said as he hovered his hand over his walkie talkie. Miles watched, prepared to beg for him not to give the order.

"You fuck up once…I make the call and your life becomes a living hell. Understood?" said Victor.

Miles just stayed silent, "Now how about you go back to the hangar and do what you're supposed to do." Miles prepared to walk out the door until he stopped in the frame.

"One day Victor," Miles started, "You're gonna get what's coming to you. If you've seen the things I've seen, you'd choose to believe instead of deny."

"Memo taken Miles, thank you." Victor responded as he sat at his desk. Miles walked out into the hallway and headed for the elevator.

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Almost a dozen zombified corpses lay strewn across the front lawn. The groups' Humvee lay in ruins from the grenade that Curly had thrown.

"How did you find us?" Arnold asked. The group all sat in the living room as Torvald, Curly, and Turner stood before them.

"Does it matter?" Curly said. Torvald looked back at his subsidiary, silently reprimanding him for his snide remark.

Torvald looked back at Arnold, "We were scouting Pennsylvania in the northeast region, looking for survivors."

"Are you guys military?" Eugene asked.

"Not exactly, we're part of Future Tech's security division." Turner answered.

"Are there more of you?" Phoebe asked.

"Too many, I'd say about two thousand amongst all the FTi stations in the states. But the pay is still good and they let us use explosives." Curly chuckled.

"Oh like the ones you used that blew up our Humvee?" Helga asked.

"Right, sorry about that." Curly murmured, clutching his rifle, wanting to admit he wasn't sorry.

"We were given orders to find you." Torvald said with a smile, "FTi's invested so much in their military branch, we're able to find anybody, even in this mess. For three months FTi and the U.S. Army have been bringing people to the Midwest where we've got the infection slowed down a bit."

"Slowed down? What you mean slowed down?" Gerald asked

"The infection started on the east coast right? But as it spread, our FTi stations in the Midwest were able to set up a quarantine, 'bout a week in since the initial spread." Torvald responded, "Richtofen, our CO knows what he's doing."

"Do they know what started it?" Eugene asked.

"Nope, something having to with a bad experiment result, but that's all we know." Curly replied.

"What about our families? The Hillwood evacuations." Arnold asked.

"Sorry Arnold, we weren't there. Our squad was making preemptive evacuations in this region. Probably why they sent us out here to find you since we knew the area." Torvald said.

"But you're here to rescue us now right?" Arnold asked.

"We're picking you guys up, that's correct." Torvald responded. Suddenly, Turner, the third soldier elbowed Torvald in the shoulder. They looked at each other, the group could see their eyes squinting and moving. Torvald looked back at Arnold.

"Arnold, you and I should have a talk real quick." Torvald said.

"Why's that?" Arnold asked.

"It'd be better if we talked alone before letting anything out in the open."

"Out in the open?" Arnold said, "Torvald, I don't keep secrets from my friends, who evidently are your friends too, remember. Either you tell me now, or I tell them later, sooner or later everyone in this room is going to know what you have to say."

Torvald looked him in the eyes, Arnold's intention seeped into his head. Torvald began to speak but choked a little. He cleared his throat.

"Arnold…" Torvald started, "We're not here to rescue _all_ of you." He said, sternly. Silence filled the room. Mai and Tai who were sitting on the couch held each other's hands tightly. Everybody scooted back a little out of shock but Arnold just stood his ground, surprised. His feet started to sink into the floor, gravity adding more weight to his conscious mind.

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To be continued.


	15. Hades Initiative

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Hades Initiative_

The hangar was chilled. A night breeze blew through the open space, under the wings of the planes inside, and cooled the spines of Jamie and Miles whom sat alone at Miles' desk. Miles had his elbow on the desk, his head in his hand. Jamie sat in his chair bent over.

"Jamie, you gotta be careful when you talk to me. Victor doesn't know about us and he can't afford to find out." Miles replied, rubbing his scalp.

"Still worried about that? Richtofen doesn't have the guts to grow eyes in the back of his head."

"How long have you been positioned under FTi?" Miles asked.

"Going on two years." Jamie replied.

"Then you don't know this man like I do. He's unpredictable, acts like he knows nothing when really he knows everything." Jamie just leaned back in his chair.

"First time we get to sit down and talk and all you can tell me is what you always whisper to me when we're working on that damn plane, 'Be careful, be careful'. Over and over again." Jamie said.

"Well we need to be." Miles said, "I'm not gonna get any closer to getting my son and wife back then you will be getting your brother back."

Jamie sat there in silence, drooping his head, Miles leaned in closer, "I know about Timberly and your parents, and I'm sorry. You did everything you could to get us out of Hillwood, but we can't afford to lose our heads, lest we lose everything we have left." Miles said.

Jamie looked at Miles whom put his hand on Jamie's shoulder, "I know your brother and my son are together. Taking good care of each other, I'm sure of it. Sooner or later, FTi is gonna find them and they're gonna bring them back here, where at least they can feel somewhat safe. You understand?" Miles asked.

Jamie just nodded, his eyes starting to water. Miles grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in close, "Just keep your head up, watch my back and I'll watch yours. Everything we've worked on can't be compromised by trial and error."

"You got it Miles." Jamie responded.

"Good. How's the package coming along?" Miles asked.

"The wiring's good, I just need one more day until I'm ready." Jamie replied.

"Good. We won't be able to talk until we put this thing in action. Put it under one of the seats closest to the engine of the plane, keep the detonator somewhere safe. When I'm ready, I'll give you a signal and you'll hit the button. Got it?" Miles asked.

"Piece of cake." as the two prepared to go to Miles' cell. They began to head out of the hangar. Jamie walked over to the side of the exit door where he grabbed the lever and pulled it down. All the lights in the hangar clicked off. The two took the elevator to the basement level and Jamie escorted Miles to his cell. After securing the lock, Jamie took the elevator again to the first floor where he left the Kappa station through the front door of the lobby. It was pitch black outside in the night sky. The clouds skewered what stars were left in the sky. No other buildings around for miles. Jamie continued to walk until he reached the adjacent barracks. The building took up about half a square mile and housed FTi Kappa's team of FTi military. It was crammed space but Jamie couldn't complain.

He arrived at his dorm, 17A on the first floor, entered and plopped on his bed which screeched with rusty spines. He then bent down and grabbed his camouflage bag under the bed, pulling it between his feet. Cautiously, he unzipped it and pulled back the flaps to reveal several colored wires, a black metal case, and a small black box with a big red button in the center and several knobs. He pulled out every little piece until what was left was a roll of gaff tape and four beige colored blocks of Semtex explosives.

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"Who are you taking?" Gerald asked.

"We're assigned to retrieve Arnold, Helga, you, Sid, and Chocolate boy." Torvald said.

"It's Charlie now." Charlie corrected him. Torvald looked at him.

"Since when?" Torvald asked.

"Since I gave up chocolate five years ago. You really have been in the army too long haven't you?" Charlie asked sarcastically.

"Good for you kid, now shut the fuck up. Are we taking these kids or what?" Turner, the third soldier piped up.

"Turner, chill." Torvald said.

Frustrated, Turner stood up and walked over to the front door and left to go wait by the squad's Humvee.

After the door shut, Gerald said, "You sure that's a good idea? Letting your man roam around outside in a zombie invested neighborhood?"

"We already took care of the walkers, he'll be fine. He's got a temper problem anyway." Curly piped up.

"Where are you planning to take us?" Arnold asked.

"FTi Station Kappa under special instruction."

"Have you seen my father?" Arnold added.

"I have, but ever since this epidemic started, I haven't seen him much. Either he's out in the field or Richtofen had him moved to another station." Torvald replied.

"That's impossible, my dad doesn't work without my mom and even then they haven't been field agents for years." Arnold replied.

"Kappa is a big station, Arnold. They've got FTi's Applied Sciences, Medical Practice, and their military branch all in half a mile of land." Torvald said. Arnold merely shrugged in agreement.

"We need to get moving. Victor's got us on schedule, sooner we get you to Kappa, the sooner we can move forward."

"Move forward with what?" Gerald asked. Torvald sputtered and choked, instantly regretting the words that have just slipped his tongue.

"Classified Gerald. We can't say anything until we get you to Kappa." Torvald responded panicked.

"You guys are just full of crap aren't you?" Helga stepped forward.

"Helga relax." Arnold said, he stepped closer to Torvald, looking him dead in the face.

"Chick's still got a mouth on her Arnold, you should've been showing her how to use it." Curly said, winking at Arnold. Arnold, ignoring Curly's vileness, glared at Torvald.

"No more bullshit Torvald. Why are you here?" He grunted.

Torvald let out a sigh and said, "We're on a search and rescue mission to retrieve subjects vital to the Hades Initiative." He said.

"What's the 'Hades Initiative'?" Phoebe asked.

"It's a collective operation meant to retrieve potential subjects immune to the Hades virus."

"FTi's doing all this? Weren't they just a real estate thing at one time?" Stinky chimed in.

"Wish I could tell you Stink." Torvald replied, "Somewhere Scheck found his footing and Victor Richtofen took over as his successor. I actually worked with your dad on a couple projects." Torvald looked back at Arnold.

"Hey hey hey, back to the problem here. So you are taking your beloved 'subjects' back to some safe house in this fucked up wasteland, what about the rest of us?" Harold interrupted.

"Nothing. We have our objective, and nothing more." Curly replied with a disgusting sadistic grin.

"Curly, enough." Torvald replied, "We can always report your location and send a chopper. Who's to say the Army won't get to you first."

"Send ground vehicles." Arnold interrupted.

"What?" Torvald replied.

"I'm not gonna let anybody go through another 'accident' like the first evacuation. Send the biggest tank you've got there to pick up our friends. Got it?" Arnold said.

"Whatever you say Arnold." Torvald said, feigning the hope of rescue for everybody left behind.

Gerald then pulled Arnold aside as Torvald started to order people out to the humvee.

"Arnold are you insane? We knew these guys when we were kids and you're just gonna let em get what they want and leave everybody else behind?" Gerald said.

"It's a chance we have to take. We've always been lucky haven't we?"

"That doesn't matter Arnold. I'm not so optimistic and I'm not so strongly a believer in your live-by-fate personae. How can you look me in the eye and tell me everybody else is going to be okay when we're just leaving them in the middle of nowhere in a zombie infested world." Arnold stood there silently.

Gerald continued to look directly at Arnold's face, "I can't explain it Gerald. I've had this feeling ever since this whole mess started. I've always felt like things would be okay. All those times when I see visions in my head? When I can 'predict the future' as you so put it? I don't know where it comes from. I don't know how I was able to know which way Charlie and Helga went. I don't know how I figured out Torvald was coming in guns blazing. All I know is it's helped keep us alive. Isn't that all that counts?"

"Yeah but…" Gerald fell silent and his eyes fell to the ground. Arnold could see through his frustration, putting a hand on Gerald's shoulder.

He said, "Phoebe is going to be fine Gerald." Just then Gerald looked back at Arnold, "She's tough, she can handle herself. She's gonna have everyone else to help her out. Maybe in a week, we'll all be safe in FTi's hands. My parents will be there, your brother, everyone. Everyone else here is gonna make it safely. We just have to cooperate for a little while."

Gerald looked over his shoulder at Phoebe who looked back at him, a whimsical smile on her face. He looked back at Arnold who was starting to smile himself. "Do I even have to say it?" Gerald replied.

"Why not for old times." Arnold said with a smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"You're a bold kid Arnold, a bold kid."

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Phil regained his bearings after the guards escorted his group to their new quarters. The room was a dump. Phil tried to stay optimistic that he and the others weren't locked up in cells anymore. He, Bob, and Suzie were moved to the two open rooms in the military barracks under Victor's orders. Suzie and Bob were in the room next door.

"This is horse shit." Bob growled, "First they take us out of those shithole cells and they put us in actual shitholes. Never thought I'd see military bunks again." He said, recalling the very limited time period he spent as an enlisted man.

"Beats being locked up around the clock." Suzie said as she cleaned dirt spots off her pink shirt and jeans.

"Doesn't mean we're free I mean, I want answers. The needles may have stopped coming but I still have no idea what the hell we're here for."

"At least whatever is going on outside these walls can't get us in here." Suzie said.

Bob angrily picked up the crate he was gripping and threw it against the wall. "But they can still get my little girl!" He roared, images of Miriam and Olga sped through his head again, as they did every day.

"I'm not sure if you or Oscar knows how the family thing works but I still have a daughter who's out there somewhere still kicking." Suzie just sat there in silence, "I'd rather I was out there and she was 'safe' in here." Suzie looked at him in shock.

"I've seen you with Helga. You treated her like garbage. When they came back from the jungle, you didn't even look happy to see your daughter again, you even mistook her for her older sister! Now it takes a zombie apocalypse to get you to respect her? And she's not even with you right now." Suzie said.

"Don't lecture me on love and respect Suzie." Bob said, "I've seen you and Oscar together, he barely notices you. I bet he's not even thinking of you right now. Trying to save his own skin instead."

"At least I still love him." Suzie snapped back. Bob looked at her surprisingly, "He may have slipped up quite a few times. Maybe I'm just garbage to him, but I still tried to change him. Maybe he's dead and I'm preaching to the choir right now. But he's always going to be my first love. He's always going to be my husband. That's unconditional love Bob. You would know about it if Miriam was still alive." Bob had nothing to reply with. He backed away, his lip quivered and legs quaked.

"I'm sorry." Suzie said, regretting what she just said, "I didn't mean to cut that deep."

"It's okay. You're right." Bob uttered, "I have nothing. Helga's probably dead. Without her, what've I got? Nothing."

"You have me." Suzie said, "You have Phil, you have Helga who I am sure, is still out there. If we all get out of this alive, you're gonna have a son in law too." Suzie walked towards Bob and sat down next to him, and began to wrap her arms around his torso in a hug. Bob responded with the same gesture. They held each other in a tight embrace that made them ignore the two knocks on the door. But they were drawn out of it when Phil opened the door and peaked inside.

"I take it I'm interrupting?" Phil chuckled, "There's a vending machine down the hall here that's rigged. Want anything?"

"Coke." Bob and Suzie said almost in unison, looking at each other in utter surprise.

"Heh heh, I'll be right back." Phil cackled as he shut the door. Bob and Suzie looked at each other once more before they separated to make their beds.

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The last of the group was loaded in the squad's Humvees. Torvald was driving the front car, Curly drove the back car. Turner, the third soldier had helped Helga into the back seat of the rear Humvee. Arnold prepared to follow suit but Turner stopped him.

"This one's full kid, sorry." He said. Arnold swatted his arm away.

"I say it isn't." Arnold said angrily.

Turner backed away with an odd look on his face and let Arnold on. Arnold climbed in and squeezed between Helga and Gerald. He put a hand on Helga's shoulder.

"I'm not gonna leave your sight again." He said to her, the first sign of affection he shared with her. Helga looked back into his eyes and grabbed him by the cheeks, pulling his lips into hers. They stayed connected for a good ten seconds. Arnold's eyes widened like they did the first time Helga kissed him, more than ten years ago.

As they disconnected their lips, Gerald, sitting next to them, said "Now that was pathetic." He said.

"Shut up Geraldo." Helga said with a chuckle.

"As you wish." Gerald said condescended. He turned back toward the window where he saw Phoebe and the rest huddled around the front door. Phoebe raised a hand and waved, staring directly at Gerald who waved back. Arnold put a hand on Gerald's shoulder.

"She'll be alright Gerald. They all will be. Torvald promised remember?

"Yeah sure." Gerald replied. The three huddled in the back. Sid sat in the middle seat, staring directly at the floor, his hands shaking violently. Curly sat in the driver's seat. He turned behind him and looked at everyone in their seats and smirked. He looked back in front, towards Torvald's humvee parked in front of him where he could see Torvald sitting in the driver's seat starting the engine. Turner was next to him, and Charlie's head peaked over the head of the back seat. He looked down and reached into his pants pocket where he pulled out a small black box with a red switch on it. Quietly he clicked the button forward and a red light started flickering on the top.

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Victor and Norrington looked at a computer screen that had the state of Pennsylvania mapped on it. A little red dot starting blinking on the west side of the state and it slowly began to move further west.

"Looks like they're heading out." Norrington said.

"Get Lieutenant Johannson up here."

Norrington pulled a walkie talkie from his belt and clicked the talk button, "Lieutenant Johannson come in."

Jamie replied on the other line, he was kneeling and twisting at a green wire, "What is it?" He replied.

"Get up here to Research now, Dr. Richtofen wants to see you."

"Gimme two minutes." Jamie replied as he clicked his talkie back on his belt. He finished twisting the wire and stood up inside the limited plane space. He pulled out a black box from his duffle bag and pushed a button on the top. At the same time, he pushed another button on the bomb and the lights flickered on both, indicating the detonator was synced. Jamie loaded his equipment into the duffle bag, including the detonator. He stood up and exited Eduardo's plane, leaving the bomb to sit subtly under the furthest seat in the back. A quiet beep echoed from the device as it ticked, waiting to detonate.

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To Be Continued


	16. Arrival

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Arrival_

Phoebe watched as the Humvees drove off, taking her friends away to either safety or destruction. Instantly, she shoved herself away from the glass and walked back to the living room.

"I want every resource of food, water, and weapons we've got in this room right now." She said as she marched, throwing all the decorations off the coffee table in the middle.

"Whatchu planning Phoebe?" Stinky asked.

"I don't know if you're aware Stinky, but we got half our group taken away and we just got a guarantee they're not coming back for us."

"You don't know that Phoebe, how are you so sure they're not gonna send more rescue?" Eugene piped up.

"Eugene, these are the guys that tried to wreck our neighborhood when we were kids. Now we have the life of all mankind in their hands? I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna rest well with that." She responded whilst waltzing into the kitchen to gather their food.

"Eugene I'm with her, last thing I want is for a horde to break in here and tear us all to pieces. I don't want that and you don't want that." Harold said. Eugene, still showing disinterest, at least perked his ears up to listen.

"Come on, food, water, weapons, bring them all in here, we're gonna follow them!" Phoebe said as she clapped her hands. Harold went into the kitchen to help her. Nadine went down to the basement, and Stinky went to the cabinet in the front room. Eugene reluctantly followed Stinky. Tai prepared to get up but Phoebe stopped him.

"Mr. Hyunh no. You need to look after your daughter." Phoebe said as she looked at Mai, still lying on the couch, asleep.

"How can we all leave Phoebe? There only one truck!" Tai said.

Phoebe began to ponder, "We'll figure something out." She said, Tai sat back down and grabbed a hold of Mai's hand.

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"Been on the road for six hours…still feels like a bittersweet victory. I'm finally getting my friends to safety. But not all of them, and not to the best place in the world, I've seen my dad with his superiors, I know how FTi thinks. If I'm not careful, we could all end up dead or used up by these people. For all we know, they could be the ones behind this epidemic. Maybe they just want to keep us safe, or maybe they want us for more than that. It's hard to think about who is all left. Rhonda…Harold can't stop thinking about her, I can tell. Patty, Helga's parents, Brainy, Mr. Simmons…More I think about them all, the more heartbroken I feel. Guess I can't save them all and I'm gonna have to accept that sooner or later. Hoping we get to FTi soon, Torvald better uphold his end of the deal." Arnold tucked the pen between the pages and shut his journal once more, tucking it away in his knapsack. Helga saw him put it away.

"What'd you write about, football head?" She asked. Arnold smiled.

"Just hoping that we're gonna live another day I guess."

"Whatever you say Arnold, you've got your secrets." Helga said with a wink. Arnold smiled at her sudden enthusiasm, glad she was no longer the moping type that she was when he first saw her.

Arnold smiled and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Curly, how much further?" Arnold asked, Curly did not respond at first, the engine and wheels continued to hum in monotone, "Curly?"

"Huh? What?"

"How close are we to Kappa?" Arnold asked.

"We'll get there when we get there Arnold, just relax man. You guys are gonna be safe in no time," He said bitterly. Arnold looked past Curly's shoulder, through the windshield at Torvald's humvee which was driving in front of them.

In Torvald's vehicle, Charlie sat silently, twiddling his thumbs. Turner and Torvald sat in the front seats, no words spoken between anybody.

"Doing okay Charlie?" Torvald asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Yeah, sure." He replied.

"Arnold told me about the fiasco where you got bit. What was that like?" Torvald asked.

"Wait, we're carrying an infected kid in our car?" Turner asked panicked as he gripped his pistol. Charlie's heart started to race, hoping the situation wouldn't escalate past raised voices.

"It was maybe a month ago Turner. Relax. He hasn't changed yet."

"Doesn't mean he's not gonna! Pull this thing over; we're taking care of this shit. You stay right fucking there." Turner said as he looked at Charlie behind him, shaking his blunt finger at him.

"We're not pulling over anywhere Turner. I've known Arnold a long time, and I trust what he told me. You should too instead of being a dick about everything." Turner turned back to look toward the road.

"You've got a soft spot Torvald. You may be able to tell me what to do, but you're a dumbass for the shit you tell us." Turner said as he pulled a small white box out of his vest pocket, tapping one end against his palm.

"Whatever you say Turner. I'll buy you a ration when we get back to the barracks. Jamie's gonna wanna know how you escalated in douchbaggery, ready to kill a kid right on the spot in my Humvee. Harsh…" Torvald said as he clicked his tongue in shame. Turner just sat there silently, pulling a cigarette out of the slim white box and putting it in his mouth.

Torvald smirked at Turner as he struggled to flick his lighter, desperate for that chest hit of nicotine. Charlie looked down at his leg. He stared at the scar from his bite and noticed it was starting to turn green. He scratched at it a little before he returned to looking out the window.

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Miles sat in the hangar, writing notes on his San Lorenzo map. He looked back behind him at Eduardo's plane, still in one piece. Jamie had planned to blow the plane at 2PM that day. Miles continued to hope the explosion would be passed off as an accident as he turned back to work on his map. Suddenly someone called his name.

"Colonel Shortman!" The voice said. Miles looked to see two soldiers approaching him, "You need to come with us." The one said.

"What's the problem, corporal?" Miles said, hoping that his stating of the soldier's ranking would remind the soldier of his authority.

"No questions sir, we need you to report with us, immediately."

"Who's asking?"

"Lieutenant Johannson, he's ordered us to escort you to your cell right away."

"He doesn't have the authority, may I remind you boys I'm a colonel?"

"Your ranking is overridden in Kappa, sir, I'm sorry." The other soldier replied.

"Bullshit, you can't do thi-" Miles was interrupted when one of the soldiers drew a tazer and shot Miles directly in the chest. The voltage seered through every nerve of his body, causing Miles' bones to stiffen.

After he hit the ground, the soldiers picked him up and dragged him out of the hangar and to the elevator which they rode down to the basement. They thrusted open the doors to the room with a single cell, Miles' humble abode.

As soon as they tossed him in, Miles regained consciousness. Ignoring the body lying on his bed, Miles stood up and prepared to shake the bars violently, "You sons of bitches, your asses are court marshaled!" He hollered as the soldiers left the room and Jamie came in.

"Miles." He said.

"Jamie, what is this? Stabbing me in the back and revoking my colonel status?"

"Miles, your son is being brought in right now by one of our squads."

Jamie definitely got Miles' attention from that. He silenced his voice instantly, "And he's got Gerald with him too. I'm sorry, I had to override your position. I didn't want to compromise our plan."

"So you're locking me in my cell to 'shut me up'?!" Miles asked frantically.

"You're not alone." Jamie said, beckoning him to look behind him. Miles turned to see an additional cot was placed in his cell, laying on it was Stella, her eyes closed tightly and one leg dangling to the floor in leather combat boots.

"I cut a deal with Victor to get you two together. I'd lock you up for good in your cell if he let you see Stella again. Victor's starting to suspect you're plotting something."

Miles looked at him out of concern, immediate worry on his face that their plan was going south.

"But he doesn't know I'm in on it either. The detonator is safe, just leave it to me."

"Just let me know next time you're gonna order someone to taze me…dick." Miles said jokingly.

"Duly noted. Just leave it to me, Victor's trying to get us into San Lorenzo, I'm trying to keep us out."

"Just blow the damn plane and quit with the exposition." Miles said. Jamie nodded and prepared to leave, "And watch it Jamie, remember what I said the other day." Jamie nodded again in agreement.

"You got it Miles." He said as he left.

Miles walked over to Stella and crouched down till he was at eye level with her. He stroked her hair and whispered her name. She stirred a little. Miles said her name once more and she opened her eyes. As soon as she recognized his face, she was wide awake.

"Miles!" She whispered loudly, still weak from the experiments. They began to hug each other tightly. Tears streamed down Stella's cheeks. The trauma from her torture was more than she could bear. As she cried into Miles' shoulder, Miles pushed her away and put a finger under her chin.

"It's me. Are you hurt?" He asked, wiping the tears from her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm fine, what are you doing here?" Stella asked.

"They put us in here, it's okay Stella we're safe for now."

"What about Arnold, has Victor found him yet?"

"The Lieutenant just told me they're bringing him and some of his friends in now."

"We…we left him in Hillwood." Stella stuttered.

"We didn't, FTi did. Victor was testing him and his classmates against the infected."

"Why test them? It's been ten years since they went to San Lorenzo." Stella replied.

"Victor's ambitious hun, remember?" Stella pulled him in closer, "What did Victor do to you?" Miles asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter, I'm just glad _you're_ okay." Stella replied.

The two held each other tightly in the dark cell. The sun cascaded over the room through the small window on the cell wall.

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Jamie walked on the rough gravel to where Victor was standing, about 100 feet from the gate that was about to open. On the other side was a blank horizon, the many silhouetted hills of Illinois.

Hanging on the fenced gate was a small milky white colored sign that read "No Trespassing" its rustic decay and faded text indicated it was left behind by the military post before they moved out and FTi took over the foundation. The gate itself was still functional as far as opening and closing, but it merely a barrier, its electricity voltage no longer functional.

Victory stood tall in his navy blue jacket and blue button down shirt with his hands in his khaki pants pockets. Jamie walked up next to him and took off his army cap.

"They're about two miles out." Jamie said.

"Are the cells prepped and ready for them?"

"Yes sir. We'll have to put two in one cell unfortunately. They have five with them."

"Five? I'm certain I said four names to Sergeant Torvald, not five." Victor said, looking at Jamie with extreme prejudice.

"That's all I heard sir, Torvald radioed in and said they were carrying five survivors." Victor pondered, this may not be so bad, an extra subject may bring up more results, he thought. But he couldn't be for sure of who exactly touched the artifact that day...

"Who's the fifth?" He asked.

Jamie replied, "Sidney Cromwell."

"Put Miles' son with him, they're less likely to talk. Your brother, Pataki, and the younger one are going in the other cells. Is that understood?" Victor ordered. Jamie nodded in reluctant reply. Just then, a pair of lights peered over the horizon to indicate the trucks were approaching. Victor's own orders began to echo in his head, how he was going to lock them up, test them for their exposure to the Corazon…

Victor spaced out too much to recognize when the vehicles pulled up. Torvald and Curly were out when they began to escort Arnold and his friends out of the trucks. It was at that moment they were lined up in front of Jamie and Victor. Gerald saw Jamie and smiled, but Jamie refused to respond.

"Welcome to FTi Station Kappa, gentlemen, and lady." Victor said; a failed attempt to be polite and make Arnold's crew feel welcome.

"You must be Victor Richtofen." Arnold spoke up, standing beside Gerald on his right, and Helga, Charlie and Sid on his left.

"You took the words right out of my mouth son." Victor replied, "You must be Arnold Shortman. Colonel Miles' kid." He smiled again, more sinister, more teeth showing.

"Where are my mother and father?" Arnold asked almost instantly.

"They're stationed here, you'll see them _in_ _time_." Victor replied. Arnold looked at him suspiciously.

"Torvald's said otherwise." Arnold replied.

"Sergeant Torvald has his own agenda, sometimes we fail to communicate, seeing as he disobeyed my orders." Victor said, looking at Torvald who was standing behind Arnold. Arnold continued to look at Victor, not convinced. Victor, realizing it was worthless to convince them to stay, looked at Jamie and nodded.

Jamie in turn waved to the soldiers behind the kids who began to approach them. The needles came out of their pockets and were jammed into each of the guys' shoulders. The dosage inside didn't exactly knock them out but put them in paralysis.

Immediately Arnold's legs went limp. He could only sway his head to the side and watched as each soldier caught the others and by pairs, picked each of them up by their arms and legs.

Arnold could see Torvald picking up Helga by the legs, and Curly instead walked the other direction toward what looked like a large hangar before he went completely limp.

As soldiers lifted him off the ground, he could only stare into the night sky, the stars looked beautiful. He wasn't sure if the euphoria was a result of shock from being stabbed with a needle that paralyzed him or because the stars were actually a beautiful sight. His brain attempted to send motion commands to his limbs but all failed as he hopelessly was hoisted into the research building. The ceiling panned across his vision like looking down at the street in a moving car. His paralyzed limbs dangled as soldiers continued to carry him and his crew through the laboratories until they arrived at the cells. Thankfully, the soldiers were genuine enough to gently set Arnold down on a cot which he could tell was uncomfortable upon first contact.

Unbeknownst to him, Sid was placed on a cot adjacent to Arnold in the same cell. Helga, Charlie, and Gerald were placed in the other three cells; these four cells of which were the ones that housed Arnold's grandpa, Bob, and Suzie just a week ago.

Half an hour later, Arnold and the others were up and walking around, still surprised at Jamie's treachery. It was at that moment, when Jamie waved his hand and they went limp from the surprise attack by the soldiers behind them that Gerald realized he wasn't Jamie's brother any more. The image echoed through Gerald's head. How could he let his own brother get put away like this? Gerald wondered, his passion and love for his brother dwindling away.

It was hard to believe.

"Well this is new…" Those were the first words Sid spoke in days. Arnold looked at him in surprise, "I thought I had a crew, I was able to survive and could do whatever I want. Now the tables have turned…" He said again.

"Sid…are you alright?" Arnold asked, as he sat down next to Sid.

"I'm sorry I did this to you Arnold, sorry my karma turned this whole situation around. We could've been safe." Sid murmured.

"Sid it's alright, you had nothing to do with this."

"Arnold, I'm meant to suffer, look at where we are…" Sid said as he looked at Arnold directly in the face.

"We're gonna get out of this Sid. They can't keep us in here forever. My dad's told me about the things they do here. They need us to be tested."

"What are you talking about Arnold?" Charlie said, Arnold looked over to see Charlie standing at the bars in the cell directly across from him, "What are they testing us on?"

"Don't you get it? We've been out in this torn up world for over a month. Victor needs an experimental group, we're it. Maybe they'll have answers. They may be scum bags but at least they can tell us what's going on."

"What's going on is they're gonna kill us as soon as they've got what they need." Gerald chimed in, sitting in the cell diagonal from Arnold and Sid's cell.

"You don't know that Gerald, things have always been alright, why stop now?"

"Arnold…." Gerald groaned, his voice filled with annoyance. Arnold stayed silent, waiting for Gerald to continue.

"….fuck you." Was all Gerald could say, mustering the anger he had in his heart. His own brother, the only one he had left, betrayed him. Arnold stood there in shock but realized Gerald's heartbrokenness.

"Gerald…" Arnold said. No answer…Arnold just backed away, he collapsed on his cot. It was at that moment, that Arnold first felt the notion of failure…

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Jamie sat in his barracks after Arnold's group was apprehended, almost three hours ago. Realizing he may have made a mistake, Jamie pulled out the detonator for the bomb. A dozen thoughts started to speed through his head. What if he blew the plane and Victor knew he was in on it? What if after the explosion, more chaos could ensue, Kappa could be compromised and Jamie would put Gerald in even more danger…It was at that time that Jamie realized he wasn't even in range to detonate the bomb from his barracks. He stood up and left. As he exited into the hallway, he saw Phil and Bob down at the end of the hallway, hanging around outside their rooms.

"Hey Jamie-O, what's happening?" Phil said jokingly.

"Phil, Bob, if I were you guys I'd get back in your rooms." He suggested as he continued to walk.

"It gets crammed in there Jimbo, what's the problem?" Bob piped up.

"It's about to get a little heated in here…" Jamie said with a smirk as he walked past both Phil and Bob who were still oblivious. Jamie left the barracks and walked straight for the hangar, almost making a B-line right for the side door. He opened it and peaked inside to see the plane sitting there, consumed in the darkness from all the turned off lights. He whipped out the detonator and tucked it in his sleeve, hiding it from plain sight. He proceeded to walk away, ready to hit the button. Adrenaline continued to pump through his veins as his heartbeat grew faster. He was maybe 200 feet from the hangar when he finally pushed the glowing red button…

There was not even a quake, no light or growl. To Jamie it wasn't even like there was an explosion. He turned back around to see the hangar still in one piece. No light or ground shaking. He pulled the detonator completely out and pushed it once more. The detonator beeped but still no explosion. Jamie was dumbfounded. Until he got his own catharsis when Curly called out to him from behind.

"Lieuuuutenant." Curly said in a suave sarcastic tone, "What've we got here." Jamie turned around to see Curly standing almost victoriously in a disgusting way. Drooping from his finger was a wire with two little boxes on each end. He shook his finger making the wire swing back and forth. It was then that Jamie realized Curly was holding the receiver for the bomb he had planted. The part that made remote detonation possible was dangling from Curly's finger… Jamie continued to look at Curly who looked back at him, his eyes growing more squinted, more sinister…

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Victor began to write more notes in his book at his desk. Behind him, the night sky cascaded over the entirety of Kappa which he could observe from his office via the large glass windows. Just then, Norrington came bursting in to the office. "Victor!"

"What happened to knocking, Norrington? What's the urgency."

"You may want to come see this." Norrington said, almost out of breath. Victor, understanding Norrington's condition decided to comply and followed him down to the main security office that housed the televisions for the cameras around the station, all hoisted on one wall. Victor looked at all of them, several hallways, some outside the research building.

"What am I looking at Norrington?" It was then that Norrington pointed Victor to the screen in the far right corner. On it, in pixilated blue coloring, was the east gate that Arnold's group came rolling through just a little while ago. Victor began to gape in horror as he saw what appeared to be hundreds of infected approaching the gate. More seemed to be pouring into the shot. Victor frantically checked the television screens for the north, south, and west gate and thankfully none were there. Victor turned back to the east gate television where it looked like the population of infected tripled since Victor turned his eyes away from the screen.

It was a horrifying site to him.

"Well," Victor said, "This puts a damper on our plans."

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To Be Continued


	17. How The Tables Turn

_The bottom end of the sun began to touch the horizon of the Earth. With that, light began to dim over the surface of the grassy areas and the sand. A dirt road ran past, very narrow, almost like a back road to get to someone's house in the country. It wasn't the trees that blocked the last of the sunlight but the smoke that billowed high from the wreckage, as there were no trees, nothing but desert. The wings were barely intact, the engine died on impact and debris scattered about fifty feet in all directions. The fire was still burning from the leftover oil and gasoline that leaked out of the broken lines. The passenger cabin and cockpit were miraculously not damaged in the crash. Several windows shattered. On one side was a gaping hole. The metal was burnt around the edges and even more odd was how the edges bent inward into the passenger section. The red paint was still faded, running around the entirety of the plane's central body, or really now bodies. Near the gaping hole where the metal bent inward, was a large pile of chairs that weren't sucked out from the pressure drop after the explosion. A body lay under this large pile of chairs. Their hand stuck out, with two drips of red on the tips of the fingers. A pencil lay next to it and further from the pencil about two lengths down, was a black leather journal, covered in blood. Arnold's journal._

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 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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 _How The Tables Turn_

Arnold continued to pace around in his cell, Sid sat on the cot occasionally glancing out of the window that jutted out from the corner space in the cell wall. You would think Arnold and Sid could just crawl their way out to freedom, but this was a window with small metal bars spaced about six inches apart. This continued to disappoint Sid as it only destroyed more hope for Sid and his friends to be free. All Sid could think about was how he let himself get corrupted by escaped criminals who promised safety. Eventually he'd promise _them_ "salvation" in return for robbing supplies. The murders were just a bonus for his new "posse"…Sid continued to grip his hands tighter as he thought deeper and deeper about his immoral behavior. Suddenly, visions of Chet flashed through his third eye, the gunshot, Chet bleeding on the floor, his eyes with a dead but surprised look. It took Sid killing a man to finally snap out of it, realizing that he wasn't what he convinced himself to be. There was a voice in his head that continued to drive him forward toward corruption.

Gunshots interrupted Sid's thoughts as he and Arnold peaked through the bars to see feet stomping around. Completely oblivious to the invasion at the east gate, the window in Sid and Arnold's cell faced west, the opposite direction. The gun fire continued to roar as Gerald stood up and approached his cell door,

"The hell was that?" Gerald piped up.

Gerald didn't get a response. Arnold continued to look outside, feet continued to cross his vision at a rapid pace. Across the way he could see the foundation of the hangar, where the base of the hangar walls met the ground. More feet sped past, wearing combat boots and the gunfire only seemed to intensify, several explosions from frag grenades started to fill the gaps between gunfire bursts.

"Scuse me!" Gerald hollered. Arnold and Sid turned back toward Gerald in the cell, "Mind keeping me in the loop?" He said.

"Sounds like FTi's got a situation out there." Arnold said, as passively as possible. He hasn't forgotten what Gerald's last words to him were. The intensity of the expletives echoed in Arnold's head.

"Infected?" Gerald replied.

"Can't say, this window's too small and the gun fire sounds like it's coming from the other way." Arnold said, looking towards the window.

"Well this was a trip wasted..." Helga piped up, "What sweet irony that we were promised safety from those things only to get devoured by the very same sonsofbitches we were sworn to be protected by."

Arnold just listened in disgust, the negativity was too much for him, one of the many drawbacks of being a prisoner.

"And you can't see shit out there right?" Gerald asked.

"No Gerald I can't!" Arnold snapped.

"Use your vision thing!" Charlie chimed in, interrupting Arnold and Gerald's conflict. Arnold looked at him in confusion, "That mind thing you do where you can see the future or whatever?"

"Charlie that comes randomly, how am I supposed to do it on command?"

"It's worth a shot Arnold. It helped you find me and Helga," Charlie gestured to Helga in the cell next to Arnold and Sid whom were impeded from seeing her by the concrete wall that divided them.

Arnold looked around in the gritty concrete walls of his cell, pondering, "Okay fine, I'll give it a shot." He said as he sat down on his cot and shut his eyes, "Nobody say a word, I need to concentrate." Arnold added.

"Not a problem football head." Helga said.

"Shut up Helga." Arnold replied playfully. He slipped into silence, taking deep breaths in and deep breaths out. His chest moved with the rhythm of his breathing as his eyes shut tighter. He began to see spots in the darkness of his eyelids. Drawing attention away from them, he concentrated more on his breathing as he attempted to channel some sort of "energy" or whatever he wanted to call it into his brain. Like a muscle, he began to strain his forehead, making his brain throb within his skull. Colors started to cascade over his vision. At first, they sped past his eyes like stripes of a rainbow. He could hear shouts of men, the gunfire outside sounded clearer to him than any banter between his prison mates. It started to hurt, the headaches intensified…

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Elsewhere in the complex, Miles continued to pace in his cell, also wondering what the gunshots were for. It was only an hour ago that Jamie was in there talking to him and Stella about their plan to blow up Eduardo's plane. Stella only sat on the cot, twiddling her thumbs, thinking to herself how she wanted to see her son. Right under their feet, unbeknownst to them, two floors down, were the four cells where Gerald, Charlie, Sid, Helga and their son were kept.

Something felt wrong, Miles thought, obviously because of the immediate gunfire, and the lack of explosion from their "plan". It's been an hour since Jamie talked to them….something felt very wrong.

"You think maybe…Victor..you know?" Miles looked at Stella, aware of what she was hinting.

"No, Jamie's not that dumb to get caught. If Victor found out about the bomb, he'll come to me first. Trust me hun, he doesn't know yet."

"What makes you so sure?" Stella replied.

"Because Jamie wouldn't compromise everything we had worked on to keep our son and his friends away from that jungle. They're his friends too. Trust me; Jamie's got everything under control." Miles hated lying to his own wife.

Right at that moment, as if on cue, the door to the cell room burst open and a body went flying onto the floor. It caught Miles' and Stella's attention as they looked at the body sprawled on the floor, chest still breathing in and out but no sign of consciousness. It was then that Jamie came walking into the room, cleaning the blood off the butt of his gun with the sleeve of his army jacket. He made a b-line right for the cell door, whipped out a chain of several keys and used one to unlock the door.

"Let's go." He said. Miles looked back at Stella.

"See?" Miles said with an innocent smile, playing it off like a lame joke. Stella just rolled her eyes at her incompetent but loveable husband.

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Meanwhile, down a ways from the cell room as Jamie sneaked both Miles and Stella out, Victor and Norrington were busy in the security room.

"Did we ever get the electric fence repaired?" Victor asked frantically as both he and Norrington struggled to contain the situation from their control panels.

"Doctor, whatever 'funds' we got from Alpha, we put towards the experiments, none of the defense mechanizations are operational." Norrington replied, subtle yet panicked.

"Send all our troops and get me a connection with one of the stations out west."

"Delta and Gamma in Colorado both went dark earlier this morning. I tried getting in touch but no response, Alpha's our best bet…" Norrington replied.

Victor grimaced, realizing that if FTi Station Alpha near Las Vegas, Nevada was notified of their situation and Victor's "negligence" was discovered, his career was over, "Just find me Lieutenant Johannson and get everybody we're holding out to the plane. We leave in one hour, that's an order."

"Wait, sir, look!" Norrington said, pointing at one of the security monitors. Victor turned back and leaned in closer to look at the security camera that monitored the front lobby. He saw Jamie, Miles and Stella as they moved closer to the front entrance of the research building, with the intention of escaping.

Victor swore under his breath, "Let them go, they're most likely headed to the barracks to get the others. When I say the word, send a small team to get them back here. Let them think they're getting away with us knowing." With that, he left the room for a second. He leaned against the wall and started to wince.

Minor pains have bothered him for several days now. Victor lifted the sleeve of his jacket on his right hand, glancing at his thumb. The fresh stitching caused itching and the red slit was still there from surgery three days ago. He bent it a couple times, grateful it was still functioning. He pulled down his sleeve and headed to the louvre to get it cleaned once more.

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Near the entrance, Jamie leaned on one side of the door while Miles and Stella sat across from him.

"On three, follow my lead, we're gonna dash across the yard to the barracks. Stay close, and don't look anywhere else except forward." Miles and Stella nodded in agreement "Okay." Jamie said.

Jamie gripped the handle of his pistol, with strong hesitation. Miles could see his forehead glistening with fresh drops of sweat as he pressed his other hand against the door, ready to push.

"Jamie." Miles said, halting him. Jamie looked in discernment.

"We're gonna be fine, you're gonna be seeing your brother soon. Just get us to safety, know that we trust you." He said. Jamie looked at him, first with discouragement, then he saw Stella behind him, both smiling at him, earning their trust. Jamie smiled and nodded in agreement as he prepared again to open the door.

"One. Two…Three!"

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The vision blurred out again but it was the best Arnold could do before his nose started to bleed.

"Gerald, your brother's rescuing my parents." Arnold said, coughing and clutching his forehead.

"Where are they?" Gerald said, gripping the bars tightly, The helplessness was starting to get to him.

"Escaping. I heard something about a barracks. Then they opened the door and that's all I could see."

"That's it!?" Gerald asked.

"All I can see. My brain's about to pop, I need to take a break."Arnold said.

"Take a break?! You're telling me you've all of a sudden got this thing where you can foresee what the hell's going on now or even in the future, but it comes and goes only at _your_ convenience..." Gerald replied.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Great..let me know when you actually conjure up something useful" Gerald replied sarcastically.

"What's your problem? You can't expect me to figure this vision thing out in a pinch."

"Shut up," Gerald snapped back, slamming his hands against the bars, harder this time. His hands started to glow red with the blood pumping faster through the veins in his palms.

"You and your optimism always get us into nothing more than trouble. First, we ended up risking life over limb just to get some gas for vehicles that are now gone or blown to shreds. Then you expect me to believe that going after Charlie when Helga took him was a smart idea when it only got us in deeper trouble with Sid and his 'gang'."

"Sid's with us now Gerald. You need to calm down!"

The last bit of calmness slipped from Gerald's mind as he charged directly at the jail bars, slamming his hands against them as if he wished they were Arnold's face.

"This is _NOT THE TIME TO CALM DOWN!_ You trusted those bastards, and look where they got us, MORE TROUBLE! I am DONE listening, you are not gonna talk me into following another one of your plans." Gerald angrily exclaimed.

The others, although they had surprise and shock on their face, weren't stunned as much by Gerald's little outburst. In fact, they were all staring at his hands, all except Charlie who couldn't see Gerald's cell as he was in the cell next to him.

The others watched Gerald's hands, still gripping the bars which he slammed against, only they started to glow an orange-red color. Steam began to emit from his grip, and a hissing noise came with it.

"Gerald…look at your hands..." Arnold said, in shock and amazement.

Gerald looked down, seeing the "miraculous" effect his hands had on the bars which were still hot. He quickly pulled them away, flailing them around, getting the steam off. He could only choke on whatever he tried to say as he stared at his palms, flipping them over, assessing the damage.

"How're you doing that?" Arnold asked. Gerald could hardly speak.

"I…I don't know…." Gerald responded. His hands ceased glowing and the leftover heat was given off by the bars where Gerald had gripped them.

"Wai-wait! Grab the bars again." Arnold said.

"Arnold, you gotta be kidding me." Gerald said, only more annoyed by another one of Arnold's "brilliant" ideas.

"You're angry at me, and I can see that. You wanna hate me for it? You wanna punch my face in? Put my face on that metal. Come on! Just try it, burn my face off!" Arnold said, attempting to egg him on. Gerald could just chuckle at Arnold's diligence as he held on to the bars once more, deciding to give it a shot, albeit reluctantly.

The glow returned, only not as strong as before, "Come on Gerald, get angry! You wanna get out of here? You wanna see Phoebe again!" Arnold only got more aggressive. It appeared to help as Gerald gritted his teeth and the heat came back. Before long, his hands weren't the only things glowing. The bars began to glow with the intense heat and more steam was given off.

The others started to cheer, all except for Sid. The cheering appeared to help as well. Before long, Gerald could feel the bars melting from being so intensely hot, yet it terrified him how the heat didn't affect his hands. In fact, it was his hands that were causing the intense heat. He realized the bars were soft enough to be bent. With a good grip, he pulled the bars in opposite directions. Before long he had a nice wide hole in the cell door, one he could easily climb through. He backed away as the others just stared at him in shock once more.

"Guess I'm not the only one with 'superpowers' here." Arnold said

They waited until the metal completely cooled for Gerald to slip through.

Carefully, he climbed through the open gap, watching his clothes, keeping them away from the metal, still a tad warm to the touch.

Realizing it would be odd for the guards to see him out of his cell, Gerald quickly ducked and approached Helga's cell across from his. He went through the same process, Phoebe's face and voice in his head helped him as he proceeded to melt the bars on Helga's cell. Before long, she was out as well. Gerald walked over to Arnold's cell where he rinsed and repeated.

"As weird as I would consider this," Gerald said before preparing to pull the cell bars, releasing Arnold, "You're the one who can see shit in your head so I won't question the situation." With that, he began to heat the metal, this time it was easier, having realized his potential. Gerald became more confident with his newly found ability which seemed to come out of nowhere. By the end, Gerald was breathing with exhaustion. The entire group was huddled around the exit, occasionally glancing out the window embedded in the door at the top to look out and evaluate the situation.

"So now what?" Helga asked.

"Now, we get those guards in here." Arnold said as he stood up and walked back into his cell.

"Arnold you crazy? They've got rifles and pistols that shoot bullets. What've we got?" Gerald asked.

Arnold replied by walking back into his cell, slamming his foot into his cot, shattering it into small pieces. He tossed the cloth aside and picked up the various pieces of the wooden frame, handing a piece to each of the others.

"We're gonna beat them to death?" Charlie asked.

"Not to death," Arnold said, "Just a good whack on the back of the neck, knock them right out. Here's the plan." He said as they all crouched down.

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"Who do you have watching them?" Stella asked as she paced around in the barracks. The room was a bit too tight for comfort but it was the safest way for them to hide, as long as no one opened the door.

Jamie continued the conversation, as Stella, Miles, and now Phil, Bob, and Suzie listened in, all crammed in the single dorm room. "There are only two soldiers in there now, Victor's got everyone else watching the eastern border. The infected aren't letting up. They're gonna keep coming until that fence breaks down."

"Where the hell did they come from?" Bob asked.

"We don't know, the last probe we sent in the air was two weeks ago. Ever since then, Victor was focused on getting your son and his friends here."

"What about protocol? Doesn't Victor have a failsafe?" Miles asked.

"He would, if he used his funding for it. He's been too focused on his San Lorenzo trip that every last bit of defense we had in this place we lost from lack of investment. Victor brought this on himself no doubt." Jamie shrugged.

"What about the plane?" Miles asked.

"That…could've gone a little better, there was a bit of a misstep in the plan that I had to take care of." Jamie replied. He felt a thump against his heel and he quickly retaliated with swinging his foot back under his bed. A muffled grunt was the reply to his strike. Jamie smiled. He proceeded to kneel down, grab the ankle of the unknown figure and dragged him out from under the bed. It was Curly, bound at the waist with tape strapped around his entire mouth and neck. He proceeded to struggle as he looked at everybody with glaring eyes.

"Bastard found the bomb and disarmed it. Before I could figure it out, he got the drop on me. He got a little too close for comfort and well….let's just say I got the better of him." Jamie said as he pulled a pistol out of his back pocket, the same pistol Curly pressed against his temple while taunting him about the detonator.

Phil looked down at Curly with disgust, remembering him from Arnold's elementary days.

"Curly…you were Arnold's class mate!" Phil said, Curly looked at him in awe. Phil knelt down and spoke in a deep low voice.

"You guys used to be close friends…now look at you…" To Phil, Curly looked pathetic. It was so hard to believe someone so innocent and enthusiastic all those years ago became traitorous and scheming. Arnold would've probably disagreed with his grandfather, seeing as Curly was the psychopath of the PS118 crew.

"Where's the bomb now?" Miles asked.

"Curly took out the detonator and made me take off the bomb."

"Where is it now?"

"Still in the hangar but it's useless without the detonator."

"We'll rewire it, because we're using the plane to get out of here."

"What? Eduardo's plane?" Stella asked, "It's still here?"

"Victor's trying to go back to San Lorenzo." Miles said, Stella still looked on in confusion, "He's still running wild about Arnold's field trip."

"Miles that was ten years ago…" Stella replied.

Miles just sighed, "He thinks...something happened to Arnold there, and maybe to Helga, Gerald, any of his other classmates who were there with him."

"Listen we can't talk about this now. We need to get Arnold and his friends out of the research building." Jamie interrupted.

"Wait wait, slow your horse there Shortman," Bob piped up, "You're telling me that slimebag suited prick is going after my daughter?" He asked.

"That is if she's not here already." Miles replied.

"What kind of military do you work for?!" Bob asked frantically

"Everything I've told you is all you need know Pataki." Miles replied. Bob just stood there, still dumbfounded but in awe. Suzie stood next to him, concerned for the wellbeing of her family, Helga included.

"If I can make a suggestion, it's probably safer in there than it is here." Jamie chimed in.

"Why not here? What happened to the lockdown procedure?"

"Victor altered it in the last couple years, off the books so no one would notice. He felt his research was more important than human life." Jamie explained, "For one thing, we have no means of getting supplied if we end up getting stuck when that barrier breaks. And remember orders for emergency protocol?" Jamie reminded Miles.

Miles just gritted his teeth and walked backwards in frustration.

"What happens?" Suzie asked.

"Shoot escaped prisoners on site." Miles said, practically quoting the emergency procedures right out of the books. "Dad, Bob, Suzie, you're with us now."

"Wouldn't have it any other way son." Phil said with a smile. He began coughing again and cupped his mouth with his hand.

"We're just gonna b-line it right for the front door? Isn't that psycho doctor in there?" Bob said.

"I can take care of him." Jamie said as he walked up to the door to prepare leaving the barracks, handing Miles a radio, "I'll go in, take care of the two guards and find Victor." "

"Jamie, don't kill him." Miles said, Jamie looked in confusion, "Victor."

"You crazy? After all that bastard did to me and them?" Bob explained.

Miles looked at him then back at Jamie, "I need to find out what he's planning, if you can, at least bring him to me when we get in the research building."

"Fine, I'll need some backup though." Jamie said, pulling out his radio. He then turned back toward his bed where he pulled Curly from under and set him on his feet. Curly grunted with pain and glared into Jamie's eyes, "I'll radio you when it's clear to move."

Miles nodded, "Find your brother Jamie, and get my son if he's not with him." Jamie nodded in assurance.

"A horrible plan is better than no plan. Let's do it." Bob replied.

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To Be Continued


	18. Breach

_The wreckage just sat there as more smoke billowed into the high sky. The top of the sun continued to peak over the horizon as night time settled in. Inside, Arnold's eyes began to twitch as he dreamed. But it was not a comfortable sleep. Only images of the accident buzzed through his head as he lay there, struggling to breath under the pile of airplane seats that covered him up. He tried to speak but the smoke and pressure on his chest kept him from barely squeaking a single word. The imagery of the accident only worsened in his head. He remembers a woman screaming, with the voice of his mother, someone screaming a name, a name that started with the jay sound. He remembers a gun firing, he realizes someone got shot, then there was the explosion. As his eyes opened widely, he became fully conscious. He began to realize that whatever made Eduardo's plane go down was not an accident._

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 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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 _Breach_

Taking out the guards was cake. Four of Arnold versus two of them with machine guns, of course they would not've stood a chance if they didn't get the jump soon enough.

The group stood over the unconscious guards after they finished dragging both into Arnold's cell. Flashbacks of the plan ran through Arnold's mind like a tape recorder. Arnold, Charlie and Helga waited on one side while Gerald banged on the door to summon the guards. He then proceeded to heat the door handle with his fire touch (what the others decided to call it) as the guards approached. Once one guard's hand made contact, the door burst open with a thrust from Gerald's shoulder, knocking the injured guard down. Arnold and the others charged at the guard who was not harmed and proceeded to bludgeon his head with legs broken off from their cots. It puzzled Arnold to think why was it so easy to escape? Where was their backup? How come nobody else came rushing to their aid after the guard screamed from unknowingly touching a door handle that was heated supernaturally. It all felt like a poorly written movie to Arnold as he pondered in his head. Sid proceeded to pull the words out of Arnold's mouth.

"Well, that felt a little easier than I expected…" Arnold and the others looked back at him, surprised at Sid's sudden breach of silence, wondering if he was going to do it again.

Gerald decided to keep the thought going, "No kidding, if this Victor guy wants us so bad, why's he keeping two guys watching us instead of a goddam army?" Gerald said.

"In case you forgotten, _Geraldo_ , they're all busy with whatever's trying to get in." Helga said callously.

"Doesn't mean they won't send more people later to check on us, the situation may have changed out there." Arnold added

"So what now Arnold?" Charlie asked.

"First, we find my parents and whoever else they have locked up here. Then we get out of here."

"How's that gonna work?"

"We'll figure something out, we always do." Arnold replied.

Gerald began to think of the others, thinking of what could be happening to Phoebe and them. What if they got attacked? What if they decided to leave the house and try to find them? The thoughts raced through Gerald's mind like a speeding train.

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The neighborhood and everything was completely out of sight by the time they reached the bridge on the highway. Phoebe, Harold, Eugene, Stinky, Tai, Mai, and Nadine hit the road with everything they could carry in a small kid's wagon they found in the basement. Mai was still limping with her wounded leg but bourbon from the house and painkillers they found on the road were starting to kick in, giving her the ability to at least walk on it some. To be safe, Tai and Nadine were there for support.

Phoebe led the pack as they proceeded onto the bridge. She could not keep Gerald out of her mind. Torvald was under orders to bring them to an FTi station, yes, he's a soldier, Phoebe thought. What makes us think that he could guarantee he'll come back for us? A good soldier would do his duty to make sure his word is kept. But if it was still in his agenda, guaranteed it would be extremely low priority…I need my friends…this isn't right…

Phoebe continued to think as she strolled across the bridge, her thoughts racing once more. Unbeknownst to her, her pace began to increase on its own as the thoughts caused her to space out, and she strayed away from the group. The group stood at the end of the bridge, paused, frozen in fear as they watched Phoebe walk further away from them.

"PHOEBE STOP!" Stinky cried, his nasally voice resonating in Phoebe's ears. Phoebe snapped out of her daydream and her vision returned as she looked at what was in front of them. She found herself in the middle of the bridge, gazing across to the other side where just at the end of the bridge, a whole horde of infected was roaming around. She couldn't tell how far back the horde looked, but it appeared to expand across the entire width of the bridge and beyond on one side. Phoebe froze in fear just as much as the others. She looked back to see them all standing there, Stinky still shaking.

Stinky began to raise his hand and made a gesture for Phoebe to come back in their direction. She looked back at the horde. None of them appeared to notice, but if one did…

She took several steps back, quietly making movement toward the rest of the group on the end of the bridge, opposite the horde. As she reconnected with everybody else, she looked back at the horde and realized, the power of love wasn't going to keep her alive to see her friends again. She had to be smarter. This was not going to be easy…

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Victor was still attempting to maintain the situation. He watched from the cameras as he saw his soldiers firing upon dozens of infected as they continued to swarm the east fence, still standing but barely holding its own.

"Where's the 33rd?!" Victor asked.

Norrington replied, "They're watching the first quadrant, Victor, you've sent every soldier we've got on our roster to defend that gate. They're the only ones keeping the infected out."

"Fine, keep them on suppression and back up as much data as you can to get it on the plane. Put everything in here." Victor said as he patted a silver briefcase sitting on a tabletop file cabinet, "I'm gonna check on the fail safe."

"The fail safe?!" Norrington asked frantically, "Victor, the fail safe is too dangerous with everyone out there."

"Some die young, Norrington." Victor replied. He turned to the door and walked out, fidgeting with a button on his suit jacket. His dress shoes clobbered the floor with every step, echoing down the milky white hallways.

As Victor turned a corner, he passed Jamie and Torvald hiding in a small cranny in the wall. Jamie tapped Torvald on the shoulder, signaling him to go. Torvald then lifted his hands, one had a rag and the other had a beige transparent bottle with liquid inside. Quietly, Torvald poured some liquid on the rag, and tip toed up behind Victor where he swung his hand around and slapped the rag on Victor's mouth.

Victor quickly tried to grab Torvald's arm but he was too slow, losing his grip as the chloroform took over his mind and he slowly lost consciousness. Torvald gently set him on the floor. Jamie came out of his hiding spot and walked up to him.

"Go get Norrington in the security room and then get to the barracks and get the others over here." Jamie ordered in a whisper.

"No problem boss." Torvald said as he walked quietly to the security room where he then kicked the door in. Jamie could hear the struggle between Torvald and Norrington as he began to drag Victor by his arms down the hallway.

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"Phoebe, we're gonna have to go another way." Eugene said. Phoebe began to question why a detour was necessary until she realized where she was, about twenty five feet from the others who were huddled behind her, and fifty feet from a small horde of maybe six or seven infected individuals in front of her, pacing back and forth blocking the exit off the bridge. Slowly, Phoebe began to back away from them and rejoined the group behind her.

"What makes you say we have to go around? We can take them." Harold suggested.

"We don't know if they're fresh sprinters or not. I'd rather we not find out." Eugene said. Harold stepped forward and looked behind him back at the group.

"You all may want to stand back a bit." He said. The others complied as they slipped behind a deserted van toppled over on the road.

Harold crouched over the hood of another car to give his arms stability and he took aim with his M4 carbine, one of the many guns they had kept in their house.

He pulled the trigger once, the bullet flew through one of the infected' heads. As the body fell to the floor, its companions noticed Harold hoisted on the car and began to walk in his direction. Harold took two more shots and killed two more. The rest began to stagger faster, before long they were sprinting. Before they got within ten feet, Harold took them all out with head shots. Their bodies lay sprawled on the ground; greenish liquid began to gush from the inflicted bullet holes. Phoebe and the others came out from their hiding spot and walked up to the bodies. Harold let his rifle hang from his shoulder.

"Harold, where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Stinky asked.

"I tried getting Rhonda to go to the range in Hillwood, never got into it. But I did." Harold responded.

"I remember now! You would go with Gerald every now and then. He tried taking me a couple times." Phoebe said.

"Get any better?" Harold asked. Phoebe just shook her head in silence. Harold knew what she was thinking about, realizing it wasn't the reminiscence causing her pain.

"Gerald's gonna be fine Phoebe." Harold said as he put a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. Phoebe nodded. Harold than looked at everybody else, "Let's find some shelter before that sun goes down." He said as he marched off. Phoebe and the others followed suit.

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Jamie dragged Victor's unconscious body to his office on the top floor where he tied him to his chair behind his desk, just to add irony to the situation. Jamie continued to hope it would be safe enough for the captives to regroup and think of an escape plan.

Meanwhile, in the barracks, Bob paced the floor frantically with everyone else who were crammed in the single quarters. Curly's rustling and taped up mumbling below the bed only bothered everybody's nerves. Phil and Suzie sat on one bed while Stella and Miles patiently waited on the other, "I want to see him. I have to know he's okay." Stella murmured. Miles pulled her in and kissed her on the forehead.

"Soon, Jamie said Arnold and a few of his friends are here. We just gotta get over there and find them, then we can regroup and figure out where we're going next." Miles replied.

"Miles.." Stella began, Miles turned toward her to show she had his attention, "Why does Victor want to go back to San Lorenzo? Why did he start all of this." Miles shuffled in his seated position, realizing very well he couldn't keep it a secret.

"You remember Arnold's field trip right?" Miles reminded her, Stella nodded.

"Victor's going after the Corazon." Miles said bluntly. Stella's eyes widened.

"We made a promise, the three of us when we returned, we wouldn't try that again!" Stella whispered loudly.

"I know, I know. You do realize how ambitious Victor is. He wants the Corazon for more than a cure. He knows what it's capable of."

"After what happened to La Sombre?! Is he crazy?!" Stella said, almost in a louder tone. Just then, the door opened, Torvald stood there, his rifle shouldered, and drops of blood were smeared on his vest. Norrington was his target but was nowhere to be found.

"The building's clear, we have to bolt for it." He said, "Let's go." Everybody hustled out, Bob and Miles were the unfortunate souls to haul Curly by his shoulders and feet.

Bob grunted, "Can someone tell me again why we're hauling this lump of shit? And what the hell are you doing asking Jamie to take Victor alive?"

"FTi's security is just a subsidiary of the Army, but this guy's on his 'secret' payroll. So is Jamie and someone named Torvald." Miles grunted back, struggling with Curly's fidgeting but tied up ankles, "We need answers and Victor's little 'team' is gonna give them to us." Miles replied as the group continued to hustle out of the barracks. The security entrance to the barracks slid open with a metallic grinding noise as the group stepped out onto the compound. Everybody turned towards the gunfire and watched as soldiers fired upon the infected which were all still clinging onto the fences, swinging the barrier back and forth like a flower caught in the wind, getting looser with every strike.

"Come on we gotta hurry!" Torvald cried out over the gunfire. As they ran, Torvald whipped out his walkie-talkie, "Jamie get ready, we're heading across the compound to Research." They all gathered around the door which was locked by the security protocol.

The females of the group could only watch in horror as the rabid infected human beings scrambled to get over the fence to attack their human prey. The group arrived at the entrance to the research building where Torvald began to slam on the glass, signaling Jamie to let them in. Little did they know Jamie was still traversing down the building floors after tying Victor up in his office. Torvald hit the glass door a few more times while Miles glanced around the side of the building to see the east gate, no more than two hundred feet away from them. Miles' eyes widened as he saw the flimsy metallic fence began to collapse as more of the infected horde slammed their bodies against it. The infected on top of the fence proceeded to pounce on the soldiers whom began to back away, also aware the barrier was giving away.

"Torvald, we're about out of time!" Miles cried. Torvald slammed on the glass even harder, gripping his rifle.

"Just break the glass, grunt!" Bob cried.

"And leave us open for the whole world to get in?!" Torvald replied, continuing to slam the glass. He frantically grabbed for his walkie-talkie once more, "Jamie where the hell are you!? We gotta get inside now!"

Miles saw as the infected at the top of the fence began to outnumber the infected still on the ground. With a sheer sense of terror stabbing his spine, he watched in horror as the fence flattened on the ground. The gunfire only intensified as the infected plowed into the soldiers who backed away ever so slowly. The compound was breached…the infected coming from the east began to fill the grounds like water pouring into a bottle.

"Torvald!" Miles screamed. Torvald, realizing all bets were off, grabbed and raised his rifle, preparing to break the glass and expose the entire ground floor of the research building to the outside world. Just as he prepared to give the first strike, he saw Jamie burst out from the door to the maintenance stairs. He raised his hands assuring everything was okay and quickly ran to the door which he unlocked with his hands. Thrusting the door open, everybody poured into the building before the infected saw them. Jamie then shut the door, locking it and backing away.

"What took you so long?!" Torvald frantically asked as Jamie finished up locking the door. He turned back.

"Victor was difficult to get secure, but I got him up in his office."

"You left him alone?" Miles added.

"If he tries to escape, he won't get very far. We should probably get up there and fast."

"What about the other soldiers outside?" Stella added.

"They're trained military professionals Stella, if anything, they'll go to the barracks and evacuate with the army trucks." Jamie said.

"If they were smart they'd use that damned plane." Torvald said.

"No one's taking the plane, Victor's got the keys." Miles said, Jamie nodded in agreement.

"They're human beings, are we seriously not going to help them?!" Suzie said, on Stella's side with the situation.

"Suzie," Jamie said, approaching his former loyal friendly neighbor, "We have been shut out from the world for years now because of Victor's faulty ambition. These guys knew what they were signing up for when FTi employed them…there's nothing we can do for them. All we can do is help ourselves to survive. Okay?"

Suzie, albeit reluctant, nodded in understanding. Bob grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her in close; very aware he was the only one who could really be there for her.

"Did you find Arnold or the others when you guys came here?" Miles asked.

"I never got to check the basement. If anything, they're still locked up. I'll get them when we go back up to Victor's office."

"No, we're going now." Miles demanded. Jamie understood, "Take everybody here upstairs and I'll go find them." The group began to move before they heard a loud slam. It came from the large metal door that sealed off the basement research section from the rest of the building. Jamie being the only one with clearance ran over to the door and unlocked it with his special key card.

Arnold was the one kicking; Helga, Gerald, Sid and Charlie were huddled behind him as he angrily slammed his foot into the door. Jamie opened the door to him revving up for his next kick when he stopped. He looked left and right, his eyes caught Miles, his father, and Stella his mother. Phil was there, smiling at the sight of his healthy grandson, relieved he was alive. Everybody else was stunned. Jamie scanned the group and then looked back, in particular, at Miles and Stella.

With a smirk, he said, "Found him."

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To Be Continued


	19. Flight Plan

_It was now night time. The wreckage was settled and the fire coming from the destroyed turbine started to die out. Arnold's flashbacks began to recede as he regained his mental balance. With one shove and all his might, Arnold removed the core of the pile that kept him pinned down. With various forms of struggle, Arnold was able to regain his feet within the passenger section of the plane. The pain was minor but still impeded Arnold from regaining his full posture. He walked with a limp as he treaded toward the cockpit section, the only part of the plane that did not break off from the main hull. He was first drawn toward the co-pilot seat where his mom was slumped in the chair, her head leaning to the left. Arnold couldn't see any injury and saw her chest moving in and out. She was alive. Arnold looked over to the pilot seat where he saw his father, head resting against the wheel and arms dangling at his side. Arnold could see blood pouring from his ear but no sign of life. Arnold carefully pulled his dad's body back in the chair and looked for signs of life. He couldn't see movement in his dad's chest. Arnold took two fingers, put them together and placed them on his father's neck, checking for a pulse…_

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 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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 _Flight Plan_

Arnold held his father in the most loving embrace possible. Everybody else looked on as the two held each other tightly. Stella moved in to peel Arnold away and embraced him herself. Miles just chuckled as his wife held their son.

"Arnold…Arnold!" Was all Stella could cry out, her eyes in tears as she held her son, her voice shaking with every sob.

Miles had his hands on both Stella's and Arnold's shoulders, uniting his family with a single touch. Phil then walked over and knelt down. Arnold pulled away, his own eyes matted with tears.

"Hey there Shortman." Phil said with a smile.

"Grandpa," Arnold smiled and then hugged him.

Suzie and Bob stood by and watched as Arnold reunited with his family. Suzie began to think of Oscar, knowing that Arnold could very well tell her what had happened, but she was afraid. Bob could sense her hesitation. He knew what she wanted to ask him.

Bob put a gentle hand on her shoulder, leaned in and whispered, "Go ahead Suzie." Suzie looked at Bob, his eyes glowing, emanating with authority, but also a sense of compassion she has never seen in him before. She began to walk forward towards Arnold and his family.

As she walked away, Bob turned towards Helga whom approached him, "Hey Dad." Helga said with a smile and her eyebrows raised, askew, but happy to see her father again.

"Hey you little rascal." Bob said playfully. His mouth formed into a smile, lips quivering.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds and then Helga just collapsed into Bob's torso like a teering Jenga tower, beginning to sob.

"Daddy..." Helga said through her moaning sobs.

"It's okay pumpkin, I'm here." Bob said, letting her fatherly side pour out of his eyes and mouth like a waterfall. Everybody else looked on with wholesome smiles and joyous reunion.

Jamie stood by, holding Curly straight up. He locked eyes with Gerald whom walked towards him. Jamie squeezed Curly's shoulder.

"You gonna behave?" He asked. Curly turned his head and glared into Jamie's eyes with death-like intent. Jamie smiled and shoved him backwards. Jamie went in for the embrace with Gerald.

"Hey bro." Gerald spoke, his voice low but still joyful.

"Hey Geraldo." Jamie retorted, holding his little brother tightly. Curly could only overlook the entire group, hoping bullets would shoot from his eyes into each and every one of them standing before him.

Arnold let go of his grandpa and Suzie got in closer, "Suzie." Arnold said with a smile, and then instantly pulled her in for a hug. Suzie returned his embrace with her own, although it was more somber, her arms merely resting against Arnold's body. Arnold could feel the lack of embrace and pulled away to look into her face.

Suzie tried speaking but could only choke out her husband's name, "O…Oscar?" Arnold's smile faded but his lips wouldn't allow a frown.

"He didn't die in vain, Suzie. He saved all of us." Arnold said with his very subtle smile. He then turned back to look at Gerald and Charlie.

"That's right Mrs. Kokashka, we wouldn't have gotten out of Hillwood alive if it wasn't for Oscar." Gerald said while Charlie nodded in reply.

Suzie nodded, she felt a mixture of emotions. Before all this chaos happened, all Suzie could think of were bad memories of her time with Oscar. After the outbreak and when they got separated, Suzie could not stop thinking of the good memories. Suzie didn't know what to think; was it for the best? Or was it really a tragedy?

After the embraces were over and everybody had their composure, Jamie led everybody up and away from the ground floor as the infected spread out through the compound. The door to Victor's office opened. Victor sat in his chair, awaiting his subjects as they all entered the room. Of course he was expecting them this way but not as such with his entire torso strapped to the chair with duck tape. The group piled in, Suzie was the last one in as she shut the door. Sid and Charlie escorted the women and the captured Curly over to the couch area and sat down with them. The rest of the boys: Arnold, Miles, Phil, and Bob walked over to the desk where Victor looked upon them with leering eyes. Mucus leaked out of his nose and onto the tape plastered over his mouth. The congestion made him struggle for breath. Miles reached up, pinched the end of the tape on the back of his neck and subtley took his time peeling it from Victor's mouth. In response, Victor grunted from the pain, but with a condescendence in his grunts, as if he knew Miles was going to go slow taking the tape off.

Miles spun Victor around in the chair until he looked right into his eyes, "Alright Victor, tables have turned. You want to explain to these nice folks what you're up to now? Or are you gonna save your breath until we get to Alpha?" Victor's eyes widened in reply but no sound uttered from his vocal cords.

"We're going to Alpha?" Stella asked. Miles turned towards her and replied.

"If Victor's right, the FTi stations out west would have already executed their protocol to prevent the infection from spreading. He says the two in Colorado and Texas went down not long ago. That leaves Alpha as the front, in Nevada. It's our only chance if we can't get in contact with them here."

"Wait, are you telling me there's more places like this?" Bob asked.

"Dad, you have no idea do you?" Helga said. Bob looked at her with confusion, "Remember the guy who promised you a bigger business if you petitioned to get our neighborhood destroyed?"

"Yeah, what's he got to do with all this?" Bob replied.

"This is his company now dad, they've become a bigger thing now or something." Helga answered

"That urban realtor business? What kind of world are we living in where real estate agencies become military and science divisions?" Bob said.

"One exposition at a time fellas." Miles said, "For all we know, the entire country is overrun and then Victor's gonna have a pandemic situation on his hands." Miles added, "Jamie, is Eduardo's plane good to fly out of here?" Miles asked.

"Should be." Jamie replied.

"Okay, then we go down, we arm ourselves to the teeth, find something to help clear a path in the compound and then make a break for the hangar. Sound good?" Miles said.

"Woah woah dad, easier said than done." Arnold said, "We've got a big group, if we just go for it, there's no knowing who could get left behind."

"I've got an idea, what if we 'accidentally' left this scumbag behind as bait." Bob said, striking Victor's shoulder with an open palm in an aggressive fashion.

"Don't be hasty Bob, we need him to figure out how to fix this." Miles said. He looked back at Arnold, "Okay son, if you've got an idea, tell us now." Miles said, "You've gotten this far, show us what you've got in mind."

Arnold began to think.

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The group set up camp the best they could on the side of the road. It was a risk but there was no chance of the infected finding them and being near the road there could be a chance of someone with a car to find them.

Mai guzzled her fruit cup and licked her spoon clean with every scoop. Her father sat next to her, finishing up his ration for the day.

"Mai, we never got a chance to ask, how'd you end up in Pennsylvania?" Eugene asked.

"Oh, I heard on the news about this disease spreading throughout the east, I knew father was still living with Arnold and his grandparents so I decided to drive there as quickly as possible." Mai responded.

"You risked your own life even with all the chaos? You realize this wasn't just a case of common cold, we're talking a serious zombie-like disease with critical consequences." Stinky said, straining his dictionary to explain the situation.

"I know it was deadly, but I couldn't sit by and wait days or even months to see if father made it out alive." Mai responded, Tai reached over and grasped her hand, squeezing it tenderly, "I think when that truck drove me off the road was when I started to regret coming back."

"Gotta admit, it's kinda weird that you weren't too far from our house at that point. Then _poof_ Gerald finds you tipped over on the side of the road just in time to save your life." Stinky retorted.

"What matters is she's here." Tai said. "Blossom, you couldn't see it coming. Be glad Gerald was there to find you, if only he and the others were here." He said to his daughter.

"I know…" Phoebe added, sitting on a ruined suitcase found lying by the side of the road, her words only dampened the mood of the whole group.

"Phoebe, they're out there, all we have to do is keep moving." Harold said.

"Yeah, they're in good hands." Stinky said.

"How do you know that?" Phoebe responded.

"Torvald may have been a hardass when we were kids, but see how everybody else has come around? I'm sure he's had an epiphany at some point. He was our friend just as much as Arnold or the others were." Eugene said, "It's just a matter of when we're all together to figure out the next step."

"What next step?" Harold asked.

"Rebuilding Harold, what do you think?" Stinky said.

"Oh yeah…never thought of rebuilding. I mean, we're only a slice of the country, who knows how far this has gotten before they were able to stop it. What about the rest of the world? Why don't they come to help us? Take out all the zombies and help us rebuild."

"Harold, you think after all the conflict and wars we've brought on everyone else, you think they really care about us?" Stinky replied.

"I didn't know you were so pessimistic Stinky." Eugene said.

"I hate that 'p' word Eugene. I'd like to think my family and I are realists." Stinky said, once more stretching his vocabulary to establish a proper argument.

"Remember how I said everybody has 'come around'? You've learned a lot of big words in the last ten years, Stinky." Eugene said with a wink. Stinky just shrugged.

"I am who I am, always and forever." Stinky replied as he tended to the campfire with a short stick.

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Miles and Bob brought the last of the propane tanks to the side hallway on ground level where the group returned to. Victor and Curly were slumped together against the wall. It took Arnold an hour to finally figure out a plan. The noise outside started dispersing. Shouting, trucks revving up, gunfire, it all began to meld into the grunts and snarls of the infected humans running rampant. The compound was for sure overrun by now.

"Alright, one, two, three, four tanks. Perfect." Miles said, "Jamie, is there a way to the roof?"

"We have sniper lookouts on every building." Jamie replied, "The stairs to the roof are close by the door to Victor's office."

"Good, we'd need to hit all the tanks dead on with four shots so we don't grab their attention with gunfire. Are you a good shot Jamie?" Arnold asked.

"I would be, if Curly didn't mess up my arm in our tussle." Jamie said.

"Torvald?"

"I'm an assault gunner Arnold, no patience or skill for sniper fire."

"Dad?"

"Wish I could Arnold…I'd risk all our safety with my age and all those drugs Victor doped me up with…"

Gerald piped in, "What about Charlie?" he said putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie just winced in fright.

"Using a kid to blow up propane tanks from a hundred feet away? Isn't that what soldiers are for?" Bob said.

"Hey, Charlie's the best slingshot gunner I've had the privilege to train. You remember those sessions back at PS 220?" Gerald asked Charlie.

"Barely…I don't even have my slingshot with me, I left it at the house."

"This ain't no slingshot man, but there's still nothing to it, you just aim, breath and pull the trigger." Jamie said, kneeling down to Charlie's level.

"Jamie, you're gonna let a kid fire a gun?!" Torvald said with shock.

"It's all we've got. If he's a good shot, he's a good shot."

"I'm not a kid anymore Torvald, you think I've been running this entire time when all this started happening?" Charlie piped in.

"That and shoving chocolate down your throat 24/7." Torvald snickered. Charlie snapped and charged right at him.

"You know you're an asshole-still a bully-pick on the little kid yeah great!" He yelled.

"Hey hey!" "break it up!" "Guys that's enough" erupted from the crowd as they easily pulled Charlie off Torvald's mountainous torso.

"STOP!" Arnold finally cried as Bob and Miles tore Charlie and Torvald apart, respectively.

"I'll kill you! You son of a bitch! I'm done with the taunting, I'm not a kid!" Charlie kept screaming and hollering, kicking as Miles held him back, continuing to holler, "Fuck you, I can handle myself, this is ridiculous, I've had it with everybody, fuck all of this!" The cursing only intensified, Charlie had a lot of rage built up in him. Then all of a sudden he stopped, almost like an invisible needle stuck him with sleeping medicine. His voice lowered in intensity, his eyes grew drowsy, dark circles forming under his eyelids and he fell to the floor. Thankfully Miles still held onto him and gently let him fall.

"Charlie? Charlie?" Arnold said, running to his side.

"What happened to him?" Sid asked.

"Just passed out, Charlie, hey buddy, talk to us kid, we need you." Miles said, shaking his shoulder and tapping his cheek. The group surrounded him.

"Hey back up you guys, give the kid some space!" Phil exclaimed. Victor and Curly just observed.

Finally Victor spoke.

"Does he still have a pulse?" Victor asked. Everybody turned towards him. Miles got back on his feet and walked towards Victor. Arnold took his dad's place, checking Charlie's pulse and breath. Miles towered over Victor whom just stared straight ahead, listening to the chaos outside, all his work destroyed by the very thing he was blamed for creating.

"You know what's wrong with him, don't you." Miles said.

"Let's say I don't have intelligence on what's _not_ wrong with the kid…" Victor replied with a very snarky attitude. Miles grew furious and grabbed him by his jacket, lifting him to his feet.

"Stop playing games you son of a bitch. What's wrong with him." Miles said, slamming Victor against the wall.

"You see the scar on his leg?" Victor said. Miles stayed silent, and looked back out, he could see Arnold still looking over Charlie's unconscious body, "The kid's got a bite. I'd say from the process of the healing tissue, he's had it for three months at least, am I correct?"

"That's impossible, bites would infect the entire body in seconds, there's no way Charlie got bit by an infected" Miles responded.

"Then why is he passed out with that scar turning all green? Why did he fling himself after Corporal Torvald so easily?" Victor replied, again very monotone and condescended.

"It's true dad," Arnold said, Miles looked toward him still in distress, "Charlie was bit when we escaped Hillwood."

Miles began to speak but only choked on his words as he looked back at Victor who just leaned his head in and spoke in a low tone, "You wanna know? You're gonna have to do something for me…"

Miles just grew more furious that Victor wouldn't give answers, instead choosing to continue toying with him.

"You son of a bitch. Don't you realize what you're doing to us? Do you even care that this little 'accident' of yours could wipe out the entire human race? And you still want to toy with us?!"

"Colonel Miles Shortman," Victor began, condescendingly, you've been through so much, you've experienced things you couldn't and _still_ not be able to comprehend."

Miles just grew a confused gaze on his face.

"You talk to me about superstitions thinking you're the man of faith and I'm the man of science. But I'm sure I know more than you. Has Arnold told you about his visions?"

Miles only twitched his head, his eyebrows bending into stronger confusion as did everybody else who stared at Victor whom turned his head towards Arnold and his group of friends.

"What about _you_ Gerald?" Victor said, his voice shaking still feeling threatened, "Anything...odd? Those cells we had were pure concrete and steel, you couldn't have Shawshanked your way out in less than 10 minutes and we surely wouldn't have given you the keys, Jamie and your parents were with me. So how did you get out?" His eyes squinted.

Gerald just stood in silence. They may seem like they have the upper hand but he knew Victor could still outsmart them, or do anything to get out of the pinch he's caught himself in.

"It's okay, I don't expect you to answer, nor remember what happened to you and your friends in San Lorenzo..."

Miles slammed him against the wall again, "That's enough!"

"Or what Miles? Don't tell me you're scared." Victor continued to taunt.

"We both know you've spent too much of your life chasing ghost stories and imaginary tribes, seeking answers to life and what not. You might as well be angry at me for stealing your ideas..." That shut Miles up. Victor took advantage of the silence to talk to Arnold.

"Arnold…do you have any idea of what's really going on here? Do you even remember what happened to you and your friends all those years ago? Son, you really believe your parents have been 100 percent honest with you?" Victor said. Miles angrily threw him in the opposite direction. Victor collided with the wall and Miles was on him once more.

"Don't call him son..you answer to me and leave him alone." Miles growled.

"Charlie is not well. He's been bitten and none of you even wonder why he hasn't turned. Over time it's become nothing more than a simple bug bite."

"I've thought about it plenty of times." Arnold chimed in.

"Arnold, please." Miles said.

"You wanna find out what's wrong with him, fine. I'm betting you also wanna know why Arnold is a psychic all of a sudden, or why our boy Gerald here can light stuff on fire with his hands…"

"You know about all that?" Arnold said. Miles just stood there in shock, this was all news to him.

"You wanna go to FTi Alpha? That's fine by me, destroy everything I've worked for in all those years. But you gotta make sure I don't get torn to shreds by the bureaucracy there, that is…if they're still alive." Victor said. Miles and the others looked around, making eye contact with one other, completely puzzled.

Arnold looked at Helga who looked at him, assuredly and nodded to him. Arnold smiled ever so slightly, realizing he had everything he's needed, except for one thing, safety.

Then Victor said, "You want to 'save the world'? You're going to need me alive."

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To Be Continued


	20. Pre Flight

_**Hey Zombies**_

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Pre Flight

The plan was set. The group was at the door while Jamie, the last resort, was on the roof of the Research building, one propane tank in his hand and the other three at his feet, all with an emergency flare duck taped next to the valve. Also at Jamie's feet was a scoped Remington, resting on the edge of the building. Jamie took the flare on the tank he was holding and ignited it. With all his might, Jamie tossed the propane tank, which fell five stories and crushed a single infected, with a fair distance added in the toss. He took the other, did the same with the flare, and threw it several degrees further to the left to ensure they were evenly spaced out. It landed about fifty feet behind the first one he had tossed. The second one didn't kill any infected but startled several around its impact. Jamie then took the final two and tossed them both, each landing next to either the far tank or the closer tank. All four tanks rested on the ground, the flares burning a fiery red, like stars on the concrete.

Miles glanced out the window and saw the tanks fall from above. Each landed on the concrete, causing little cracks in the ground and dents where the tank impacted the earth.

"Okay, everybody back." Miles said and everyone scooted away from the door, aware the glass would be shattered by the explosions of the tanks closest to them. Arnold gripped Charlie's ankles tighter, his palms sweating profusely against Charlie's skin. Arnold had Charlie's legs hanging over his shoulder while Charlie's top end rested on Gerald's head who held him up by his shoulders.

On the roof, Jamie positioned himself next to the rifle, laying entirely on his front side. He reached over, grabbed the bolt and cocked it back. The gun clicked and a shimmering brass bullet loaded itself into the firing mechanism. Jamie glued his eye to the scope as the rifle hung over the edge of the roof. He slowly adjusted his direction until one of the pair of tanks came into his view through the scope. With a couple more motions, Jamie had both propane tanks in his crosshair. He shifted his shoulder once more and took a deep breath in.

Back in the lobby, the others were huddled behind decorative columns, their ears cuffed by their hands. Torvald had Curly by the neck, still bound and gagged at the mouth with tape. Miles had a bound Victor in his grip, with a pistol against Victor's back to ensure no funny business. Behind him, Helga was crouched next to Arnold. She shimmied a little bit, leaning into Arnold and Arnold returned the gesture by grabbing her hand behind his back.

Jamie let his breath go as a sigh of relief and pulled the trigger. The bullet launched from the barrel, spun at a thousand revolutions per minute until it struck the propane tank.

The explosion was not very wide but still caused damage around it, clearing the infected in a twenty foot diameter or so. The shockwave vibrated the glass on the lobby entrance violently until it abruptly shattered into little crystals. The others kept their ears cuffed, knowing they wouldn't go until the second explosion. Jamie rinsed and repeated, cocked his rifle and aimed for the tanks further away from the building.

After breathing in and out, Jamie fired another bullet, striking the second pair of tanks dead on. That explosion was even larger, before long, a large path shaped like a giant eight was made for the group, as Jamie could see. He felt a little bit of pride for his work of art but knew it wasn't over. He dropped the Remington and dashed for a small pack next to one of the antennas. After several clips, he had fastened the pack to his backside.

Jamie then bent down, grabbed his rifle and tossed the strap over his shoulder as well. Jamie looked back at where he had fired the sniper rounds and took a few more breaths. Down below he could hear the gunfire and knew the group below was dashing for the hangar, no more than a quarter mile across the compound. It was a bit of a dash but thankfully the propane tanks cleared the way for the first half of the run. Jamie fiddled with a small ring attached to a cord on his pack. He pinched it, and sprinted for the edge of the building. With every last bit of energy he had in his legs, he pushed himself off the building with his feet and leapt as far as he could.

Without missing a beat, he yanked the cord and the air resistance coming at him quickly unfolded the red dyed parachute in his pack. It successfully deployed and Jamie began to float through the air, diving straight for the hangar. He pulled each handle on his left and right to help direct him. Below him, he could see the gunfire of the group continuing to progress toward the hangar. The infected were still stunned from the explosion but quickly began to realize there was a meal to catch.

Little by little, the infected began to take notice of the group running right past them. They began to snarl and grit their teeth as they saw the people running and began to sprint after them themselves. Jamie, traveling a bit faster than the group, landed on the top of the metal hangar, quickly unclipping the parachute from his pack to keep it from dragging him. He turned around, ran to the edge of the hangar from the direction he just came from and began to fire at the infected with his weapon.

Down on the ground, Arnold and Gerald were struggling the most, carrying the unconscious Charlie. Not only was it more weight for them to run with, but it was a limp body that didn't help them move at all, only gravity could tell Charlie's body where to go. Miles, Bob, Suzie, and Stella all had weapons to fire at the infected, pistols they had obtained from Victor's cache in his office. Even with all the bullets flying, the infected only seemed to continue closing in on them.

Jamie continued to suppress them from the roof of the hangar, "Guys! Move!" His gun clicked, no more ammo. He quickly ejected the empty magazine and slammed another into it, his last one. Whilst he reloaded, he grabbed one of the three frag grenades clipped to his belt, popped the pin and threw it into the crowd.

"We're almost there! Keep pushing!" Miles said. Meanwhile, Torvald was at the back, lugging the resistant Curly who was not helping Torvald progress at all. Curly looked up at Torvald, seeing the sweat on his eyes and the hazy breath he took in.

Suddenly, the frag Jamie had tossed exploded. Curly took the time to twist in Torvald's grip until his hand was close to Torvald's utility belt where he frantically felt around for Torvald's knife. Within seconds, Curly grabbed the knife, cutting himself from grabbing the blade and lifted it from Torvald's person. Then he thrusted all his weight into him. Torvald ended up tripping and falling to the side.

Meanwhile at the front, Miles arrived first at the hangar door, thrusted it open, and tossed the bonded Victor inside. He turned around to see everyone catching up and the infected continuing to dash after them.

Torvald and Curly fell a few feet from each other. Torvald struggled to get up but Curly was able to stagger to his feet. He continued to hop toward the others. Sid was the only one who noticed as he looked back to check on the people behind him. Very faintly he could see Torvald in the distance with infected sprinting towards him and Curly who struggled to hop with his bindings. Sid ran up to him and tore the tape off his mouth.

"What happened?!" Sid cried.

"Torvald tripped!" Was all Curly could say. Bob ran to their aid as well, he grabbed Curly by the shoulders who quickly stuffed Torvald's knife into his camo pants, giving his backside a minor scratch. Sid went to go help Torvald.

Sid cried his name, "Torvald!"

A line of infected sealed Torvald away from Sid. Torvald continued to fire at the infected that dashed after him.

"Sid go! Get the hangar locked up!"

"Torvald, you can make it!" Sid cried.

The infected only pushed Torvald further away from them, Sid could barely understand him, "Jus-g-oo, d—n't-r-ust-Curl-y!" More gunfire erupted but slowly died down. Sid could see a group of infected conjoining on one spot, dog piling something to the ground. All Sid could hear from there were blood curdling screams and short bursts of gun fire. Gerald, having dropped Charlie in the hangar, ran back to get him.

"Come on Sid, we can't, we gotta go. He's gone." Gerald screamed. Sid resisted slightly, only to give in and let Gerald rush him to the hangar. Miles stood at the door, aiming carefully past Sid and Gerald who were the only ones left outside. Miles shot off a few more infected that dove after them, but Sid and Gerald successfully evaded all of them and got inside the hangar. Miles then slammed the smaller door shut, engulfing the hangar in darkness…

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Everybody seemed to agree they were in Ohio. The air felt moist and Stinky distinguished it may have been coming from Lake Erie. The enticing scent of saltwater in the air may draw them towards more shelter and protection, but they still had another two weeks on the road at least if they kept going. But it was obvious to them, it was a mistake to travel this far on foot. Phoebe slumped against the concrete wall. The group had stopped at a broken down gas station. Everyone but Stinky and Eugene were still outside the store, they were lucky to have found supplies at every pit stop they made.

Phoebe looked around at her surroundings. Tai and Nadine continued to mend Mai's bandaged leg, with looks of hope on their faces as they saw the healing process. It began to hit Phoebe as well that it was a mistake to bring everybody out here.

I may have killed all these people by doing this, Phoebe thought.

As if on cue, "We've still got a fair amount of bullets left, if push came to shove..." Harold said, standing over her. Phoebe looked up at him, her arms crossed and eyes matted with dried tears. Her frown only intensified after Harold spoke. She stood up, looked him in the eyes and swung her arm at him. His head flung to the right from the impact, the slap nearly echoed in all directions. The group looked up when they heard the sound and gazed in awe as Harold clutched the skin where Phoebe had struck him.

"Shut up…don't you ever say anything like that again." Phoebe said. Harold looked at her, a hand still on his cheek, and remorse melted onto his face.

"I'm sorry. I just can't take it to seeing our group suffer like this…it feels inevitable to me anyways." Harold said, his voice very monotone. He proceeded to walk off to the other side of the store. The rest watched as he disappeared around the corner. Just then, Stinky and Eugene came out the front doors, both with plastic bags filled with what appeared to be cans and other miscellaneous stuff they found.

"Well we're in luck," Stinky said, plopping his bag on the wagon, "Found enough for everyone to last us a few more days, if we're smart about rationing it." He said. There was no response, no sign of joy for his work. He looked up and saw Phoebe against the wall, her head in her arms and Harold was not in sight. Eugene noticed the same after putting his bag down as well.

"What happened?" Eugene asked. Phoebe got up and walked towards them.

"We left, that's what happened." Phoebe said, her voice sounding hopeless, "Never should've brought all you here, it only made matters worse." She continued to squeak with every sob.

"Don't say that Phoebe, you know we're making good progress. We got out of Pennsylvania right?"

"Yeah? And how many more states Eugene?! Three? Four? Nobody here even knows where FTi Kappa is!" Phoebe erupted. Everyone was silent, amazed but aghast at Phoebe's sudden burst of anger, something they rarely saw in her. Phoebe walked away from the group and further away from the rural gas station into the middle of the wasteland around her. It felt dangerous being so exposed but Phoebe's anger wiped away what was left of her rationality and maybe even her will to live. She stood there in silence and continued to think about Gerald and the others, wondering what could possibly be going on. She looked down and saw a pebble at her feet. Depressingly she kicked it away from her vicinity.

As soon as it stopped rolling, she heard a loud bang behind her, and with it came a large flash of light. The flash didn't harm her seeing as she had her back turned. She looked back to see little sparks in the air but the nighttime darkness obscured any figures from her vision. Phoebe called out.

"Guys? You alright over there?" She said as she approached the gas station. She could hear scuffling of feet and what sounded like the hum of an engine getting closer. She prepared to call out people's names but was stopped when a hand reached from behind her and cupped her mouth. A strange fume invaded her nostrils as she struggled against this attacker but she began to feel weak. The fumes continued to feel her head with nausea. Before they took full effect, she realized she was getting dosed with chloroform before passing out…

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People continued to scuffle around in the dark, mumbling, trying to get their bearings. "Everybody relax." Said Miles. Shortly after, there were footsteps, and metal clanging. Miles struggled to find the switch, feeling around on the cold metallic walls. Finally, he felt a large plastic rod jutting from the wall. He gripped it tightly, and thrusted it upwards. Immediately, the hangar filled with light that poured over everything. Everyone's sight was restored. Jamie rubbed his eyes together, letting his pupils focus as he looked around the room. Immediately he saw something was off.

"Where's Torvald?" He asked. Everyone else instantly began looking around, Sid and Gerald then came through the door and slammed it shut, leaving the infected outside to slam against the metal exterior of the hangar.

"Where did Torvald go?!" Jamie asked again.

Sid and Gerald struggled to catch their breath, wanting to answer. Meanwhile, Bob tossed Curly, still tied up, to the ground. Jamie saw him and walked over to him. He grabbed him by his arms and shook him a couple times, slamming his head against the concrete ground. He pinched one side of the tape that sealed Curly's mouth and slowly tore it from his lips. The stretch of Curly's skin and the ripping sound of the tape made it painful for everybody as Curly grunted.

"What happened to him, you son of a bitch." Jamie growled.

"He fell, he was dragging me until he pushed me forward all of a sudden and next thing I know we were both on the ground."

"He did fall, I tried to get him and he was getting back up before they got him." Sid added.

"What makes you think we can buy that?" Jamie replied.

"Why argue, Lieutenant Johannson? Corporal Torvald is dead regardless right? What good is it to kill a simple grunt like Curly here." Victor piped up.

"Victor, shut up." Miles said, "Look Jamie, as hard as it is to say, He's right. Torvald's dead and there's nothing we can do. We'll get out of here in the plane and figure things out when we're in the air.

"Why bother? Let's just toss this prick outside right now and get out of here." Jamie said.

"No." Arnold said. He then looked at Victor who was still tied up and leaning against the hangar wall. He walked up to him, "Tell us, why is Curly so important? We need you, obviously, but why him." Gerald looked at the two, and as Arnold talked, his eyes widened in shock.

"Anything?" Arnold asked, "It'd be so easy for us to throw him out there and let the infected tear him apart, but you seem to need him for something, don't you?" Victor just stood there, not intimidated but still had no response.

"That really depends on him." Victor said finally. Arnold was quiet. He turned around and looked at Miles.

"Dad, let's bring him. Interrogate him in the air and we'll figure out the truth sooner or later." Miles looked back at his son; a smile grew on his face, pride in his son and who he's become.

"Get him on the plane Jamie." Miles said. Jamie reluctantly picked Curly up from the ground.

"You murdered him you son of a bitch, I know it," Jamie whispered to Curly, "And I will not stop until you're in front of a firing squad." With that and a shove, the group walked to the plane. Miles pulled the stairs down and everyone loaded in. The interior had a mildewy smell, one familiar to Jamie and Victor but not anyone else. Jamie hauled Curly to the back of the plane, walking past Victor whom was already sitting.

Curly stared at Victor as he passed, a glare on his face of betrayal. Victor just shook his head as Curly passed, and everyone else took their seats. Curly unfortunately didn't get a comfortable linen chair. Instead he lay on the cold metallic flooring of the plane in the very back. There was barely enough space for everyone in the passenger section. Miles and Stella got in the cockpit while everyone sat in pairs.

Miles flicked a couple switches on the dashboard, "Let's get out of here." He said before locking eyes with Stella as the two smiled at one another. Their newfound freedom giving them a sense of hope in the dreary world around them. Suddenly, Arnold walked up to the cockpit entrance and peaked his head in.

"It's good and all that we got to the plane but how are we gonna deal with the party outside?" Arnold asked.

"Son, just sit back and enjoy the fireworks. That is if this baby's still got the kick it's had from ten years ago." Miles said. Arnold just smiled but did not leave his parents' side. Miles flipped a switch and pulled the rip cord. A loud bang echoed in the hangar and the plane began to spew smoke from its rudders.

"We're five by five?" Miles asked.

Stella answered, "Yes indeed, let's get outta here." She said, looking at Miles. Miles, in return, grabbed her hand, pulled her in close and gave her a peck on the lips. Miles then revved the wheel toward him. Jamie hopped back off the plane to get the hangar door. It was going to cut close but everyone had confidence that he would make it after opening the large metallic barrier that sealed them off from the infected outside. Jamie walked over to the side of the door with the switches. He looked into the cockpit window where Miles watched him. He gave him a subtle nod and Jamie hit the switch. The door opened slowly and the swarms of infected were allowed entry to the hangar.

Jamie quickly ran from the door to the plane, hopped on and slammed the plane shut.

"Full throttle, go!" Miles screamed. Everyone held on tight. The infected were oblivious but still conscious about what was in front of them. One by one they snarled and began to limp toward the plane at first. Then their appetite got the best of them and they began to sprint for the plane, spilling onto the hangar floor.

"Come on, come on!" Miles yelled again. The plane lurched forward. Everyone in the passenger section jolted backwards. The infected were hungry indeed but did not take into account the spinning propellers giving off immense air resistance that pushed them away. Some were too resilient and instead were pulled in with the suction.

"Miles, all that blood and guts, what makes you think the propellers will hold?" Stella asked.

"They'll hold, this pup's still got life in her, I know it." Miles said as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. More infected proceeded to bolt for the plane instead to get chopped up inside the propellers as the plane rolled out of the hangar, cutting up everything in its path.

"Right Miles." Stella said.

"I know." Miles responded. With a struggle, the plane chopped through the swarm of infected. The ones that weren't diced up proceeded to slam on the hull, wanting their meal which was concealed inside. Arnold nervously left the cockpit and sat down next to Helga whose hand immediately grabbed his. The two looked at each other and then out the passenger window. The plane slowly lurched forward out of the compound area and rolled towards the east fence.

"Miles?"

"I know!" Miles pulled with everything he had, giving the plane as much thrust as possible. The engine revved and the plane rolled, picking up speed. The nose of the plane struck the fence first, then the wheels flattened it before the plane gained its top throttle. Before long, the wheels loosened some pressure and then immediately lifted off the ground. Everybody's ears popped as the plane gained altitude. With every twenty feet the plane climbed, everyone gave off a hazy and pressure induced breath. With a slight tilt, Miles yawed the plane around. Everybody on the right side looked down at the compound of FTi Kappa, hardly any lights to be found, and little ant looking figures roaming around, the infected they had just combated.

Then it stopped. The plane stopped climbing and began to cruise gently at ten thousand feet, heading west. Miles and Stella looked at each other again and smiled. Miles got up, leaving Stella in control and peaked his head out the cockpit to everyone.

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, we are currently cruising at ten thousand feet, the no smoking and seatbelts signs will turn off. Beverages will be served shortly." Miles said with a smile. Without missing a beat, everyone whooped for joy. Arnold gave Helga a loving embrace and than a long kiss which Gerald watched, clocking it at around twelve seconds.

Sid, sitting next to Gerald, patted him on the shoulder and the two gave each other a friendly hug.

"Feeling better man?" Gerald asked as he let go of their embrace.

"Yeah, I'd say so." Sid replied with a smile, "I know the others will take a while to forgive me but maybe they'll come around."

"Don't sweat it man, Arnold's still your friend, he could see the good in you and he knew he could get you back on our side where you belong." Gerald said, patting Sid's shoulder. Sid responded with a bright smile.

"Hold on people, we're not out of the woods yet. We may be safe but we still have the trip to make to Nevada. It'll take a couple hours but in the mean time, check yourself for wounds and rest while you can." Miles said. He turned back and sat back down, guiding the plane once more.

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The plane continued to hum and moan, with maybe thirty minutes of flight time left. Gusts of wind struck the plane as it glided in the air. Everyone in the passenger seat had fallen asleep, even Victor surprisingly, who sat in the back row, still strapped down to his chair was able to nod off. Meanwhile, Curly was still on the ground, while Jamie sat diagonally across from him, but had fallen asleep. Curly took the time to get the knife out of his pants and started working on the tape that bound his hands. The knife sliced at the tape as Curly's wrists began to loosen more and more. Suddenly, the tape snapped and his hands were free. He took caution not to make too much noise with the ripping. The noise woke Victor however whom opened his eyes and looked over. He saw Curly crushing the destroyed duck tape and stuffing it into his pocket. Victor's eyes widened with surprise.

"Thaddeus…" He whispered, calling Curly by his legal name, "What are you doing?!"

"They're not gonna get away with this…I'll show them. Just like you told me, how important this was to you." Curly replied, that crazy glare in his left eye, almost making it lazy.

"Don't do what I think you're gonna do."

"Don't worry doc, when the plane lands, I'll take them all by surprise." Curly said.

"Don't be an idiot, if you go and do this, I'm not gonna aid you at all." Victor whispered loudly again.

"Come on old man, you know you're useless to me anyways." Curly replied, his eyes squinting.

Victor prepared to respond to his condescending reply but Arnold was awake as well and was walking towards them, checking what the noise was about. Both fell quiet.

Arnold walked over to Curly and knelt down. Victor shut his eyes and proceeded to play-sleep, "Curly…" Arnold said, "What happened to you man...remember how close we were before you left for the army?"

"I don't remember or feel anything Arnold, don't you remember? I'm a psychopath like always."

Arnold shrugged, "You always were a bit too blunt, but why would you do something like this? Help the person who's actually trying to destroy mankind?" Victor opened his eyes, his pride wanted to object to Arnold's comment as he thought he was doing the complete opposite.

"I mean look around you," Arnold continued, "Our hometown is ruined, all the people we knew as kids, some of our parents, people like Mrs. Vitello or Mr. Green?"

"Mr. Green is dead?" Curly asked.

"I listened as Stinky watched him turn, then he blew his brains out." Arnold said, his voice very low and serious, hoping the thought could convince Curly to get rid of the evil in him. Curly did in fact give a response of remorse, but unbeknownst to Arnold, it was fake behavior. Curly bobbed his head and Arnold reached up and put his hand on Curly's shoulders.

Colors and haze all rushed through Arnold's head again as he gripped it in pain. Images rushed through his head as he began to see Curly's thoughts like a movie. He saw Curly shaking Victor's hands, him and Jamie rolling on the ground in a tussle after Curly found the bomb, and finally, he saw Curly's evil smirking face after he had tossed Torvald to the infected. The rush stopped and Arnold's vision returned. He was staring right into Curly's eyes who looked at him in disbelief.

"You killed him…You killed Torvald!" Arnold cried. Everyone began to wake up.

"Murderer!" Arnold cried.

"Arnold, what is it?!" Jamie asked frantically as he woke up as well.

"Curly lied, he pushed Torvald away to save himself, and he lifted Torvald's knife.." While Arnold had his head turned towards Jamie, Curly had lifted himself up and grabbed Arnold by the throat.

"You always were too much of a goody two shoes Arnold, never knew when to _not_ be a tattle tale." Curly whispered, a slight growl in the way he talked, his teeth almost grinding against Arnold's ear.

Jamie drew his pistol and Curly shielded behind Arnold, the knife to his throat.

" Take it easy Curly, you know we're ten thousand feet in the air, you got nowhere to go." Jamie said.

"Oh I don't plan on leaving, I wouldn't be anywhere else other than Alpha, if the infected haven't gotten there yet. I just don't want a prick like you in control."

"What motive have you got Thaddeus? What will this accomplish?" Miles said, calling Curly by his proper name.

"Self preservation…you can't begin to imagine what Victor has shown me…the terrors in San Lorenzo we left _behind_. And now you want to go back to rescue Chocolate boy, the bastard can't even speak for himself now. For all intents and purposes, he's pretty much _dead!"_

"Thaddeus!" Victor erupted from the seat next to him. Curly looked towards him, "You think I want to go back? I'd rather take my chances with the soldiers, even if it kills me. But our plan will prevail, I promise. Just put the gun down..."

"I'm not going back to the jungle doc!" Curly said, his voice almost sounding afraid.

"You won't have to…" Victor replied, understanding Curly was becoming a loose end.

"Curly, put Arnold down and drop the knife, we're gonna be landing in Alpha soon." Jamie said, his gun still drawn. Curly stood there in silence, the knife pressing into Arnold's skin causing him to bleed.

"Fine, you want Arnold? You can have him!" With that, Curly threw Arnold forward into Jamie's torso, throwing him off and causing him to drop his pistol. Curly was too fast for everyone and grabbed the pistol. Jamie saw this and dived for his rifle but Curly had the drop on him.

"Put it down, Lieutenant." Curly said. Jamie stopped and stood next to everyone who hustled against the cockpit. Stella was still frantically flying the plane.

"Now," Curly said, "Everyone's going to sit down and relax. We land in Alpha and you guys let me go my own way, understood?"

"You're not gonna shoot me Curly." Jamie said, his pride beginning to show.

"Why's that eh? Jamie-O!" Curly said.

"Cuz I still owe you for keying my fucking car!" Jamie said. With that, he ducked and attempted to charge into Curly. But Curly was faster. The gun shots roared inside the plane hull as Curly fired the gun into Jamie's back. The bullets entered his backside and exited his waist where they skimmed Jamie's last grenade which had flung free from his belt.

No one could explain or picture what happened next. Arnold was the only one with a vivid picture. There was an explosion, a hole jutted from the plane, not sure if it was the grenades that caused it, and Curly losing his stance before the immense pressure sucked him out of the newly formed hole on the side of the plane. Smoke and fire erupted from the plane as it began to dive down towards the cool nighttime desert below…

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To Be Continued

New Hey Zombies chapters coming September 2015

Author's Note: Hey guys, making some big breaks with writing HZ. However, I need some time to get enough material written for *daily chapters* if I want to keep the story consistent. So I plan to take a couple weeks to plan out the rest of the story, then I'm gonna start cracking down on writing actual chapters for release. So consider this the "mid series finale" of Hey Zombies. Hopefully I can finish the story in 40 chapters cuz I have LOTS of ideas for where it can go and how it'll wrap up in the end. I called it a Horror Adventure for a reason ;)

-M

P.S - I have rough cuts posted under "Hey Zombies Season 3" on my profile, you are welcome to read ahead, but be warned, I wrote them in a bit of a rush and released them post-haste so continuity and such may be an issue. So if you want to read ahead, it's my treat, but please if you have ideas or suggestions, please leave a review or PM me with your suggestions and critique and I will utilize them to revise said chapters. Thank you all for reading, the adventure will hopefully continue SOON!


	21. MayDay

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Mayday_

 _April 30, 2002_

The sun slowly sunk behind the buildings as the day started coming to a close. It was still early afternoon and all the students were let out of PS 118. Gerald and Arnold hopped off the last step of the stairs to the school's front entrance.

"I'm telling you man, if you think it's fate, you're more insane than I thought."

"I don't think so Gerald. I think it's one thing to believe in fate and another to believe in freak coincidences. The facts are there but I believe it all got put together for a reason."

Gerald just chuckled, setting his hand on Arnold's shoulder, "Listen Arnold, as your loyal friend and practically your brother, I commend you to be institutionalized for thinking that your so called 'pen pal' Cecile was actually Helga in disguise."

Just then there was a car honk. The two looked toward the parking lot on the left hand side of the school to see Jamie-O hopping out of his Mercedes.

"Speaking of brothers and coincidences." Arnold said. Jamie-O ran up to the duo with his hand raised.

"High five bro! Ready to head home?" He said. Gerald reluctantly raised his hand and returned Jamie's gesture. Jamie, however, was fast to grab Gerald's hand and twisted it around his back side, causing Gerald's shoulder to stretch in minor pain.

"Uncle!" Gerald said, almost automatically, knowing the routine when Jamie picked on him.

"Things have changed little bro, now you have to say 'Jamie brings the party, Gerald sucks the eggs'."

Without missing a beat, "Jamie brings the party, Gerald sucks the eggs!" Gerald replied. Jamie let go.

"You're a fast thinker Gerald." Jamie replied, he looked at Arnold, "What's up skirtman?"

Arnold looked at both Jamie and Gerald, "How many times do I have to show people," He said as he grabbed his green long sleeve shirt and lifted it to reveal the rather extra large plaid under neath, "It's just another shirt."

"Jamie lay off, for the last time; Arnold gets enough flack about it at school." Gerald said, standing up for his friend. Arnold showed gratitude with his minute smile.

"What's the big deal? Arnold just likes fat people shirts right?" Jamie replied.

"It was the only thing his dad left behind." Gerald replied. Arnold had told him the story years ago, how he promised to wear it every day to school to remind him of what had happened…

"I'm sorry little man," Jamie said patting Arnold on the shoulder, "I keep forgetting what kinda sitch you're in at the moment."

"You've forgotten? His parents have been gone for years!" Gerald said, raising his voice in defense.

"Gerald relax. It's okay Jamie. I've found ways to cope with it." Arnold replied, very gently. Just then, a loud clanging sound drew the trio back towards the parking lot where a small boy in a yellow orange striped shirt had just staggered back to his feet. A knocked over trash can was near his right foot which he clutched in pain.

"Hey!" Jamie cried, seeing the boy was in proximity to his car.

Gerald said, "What's that rat up to now," recognizing Curly's attire and his eccentric movements. Curly had disappeared between two of the tall apartments across the street by the time they knew who it was. The three ran up to Jamie's car, a small paper clip lay next to the driver's car door which Jamie stared in horror at.

"Oh that little f…rodent!" Jamie said, embarrassingly censoring himself.

"Oh jeez…Curly's dead next time Jamie sees him..." Gerald said as Jamie proceeded to spit repeatedly on his finger and rubbing it against a small scratch on the red paint under the door handle

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Journal entry #62 – August 30th, 2012.

"In a matter of days, we were able to reunite with our loved ones, fight back against the corrupted people responsible, and then lose it all in the blink of an eye. Wish I knew what else to write about, try to argue why this was meant to happen for a reason, but I got nothing. These could just be my last words before leaving this desolate world behind. At least I'll leave with the ones I love and care about…I don't know how much more I can take, but if anyone were to find this in the future…not everyone is to blame for why you are living the way you are living. The most you can do is keep pushing, keep trying to survive, and never let go of hope. This is Arnold Shortman, twenty years old, from Hillwood, Massachusetts signing off for my family, my friends, and maybe even all of mankind…"

Arnold didn't clap the journal shut like he usually did. He gently closed the front cover of the black leathery book and stood up from the piece of wreckage he sat on, walked fifty steps past Stella who was mending the head injury on Miles' forehead. Suzie and Bob sat in the dirt, stirring the sand with their fingers. Helga, Sid, and Gerald hoisted Charlie's unconscious body, still breathing, which was tossed from the wreckage and laid it next to the fire they were able to conjure from several plane seats and jet fuel. A bit further were Gerald and Jamie, whom was clutching a bloodied hole on his side. Both Charlie and Jamie were breathing, but Jamie's breathing was scratchier, the sound of grinding metal echoing his throat every time he breathed out.

Arnold kept walking till he was barely in the light of the burning wreckage that glowed in the night sky, dimming ever so slowly. He slumped to his knees, sat the journal at his side and began to dig in the sand. He made a small burrow, big enough to put a book in, and proceeded to set his journal inside. He took the pencil he was writing with and dropped it in after the journal. Arnold took all the sand he dug up and buried the journal, creating a small mound for anybody to find. Arnold stared at the mound for a second before getting back on his legs and walking back towards the other group. After setting Charlie down, Helga went over to Stella to assist with Miles. Arnold walked over and sat next to his mother and Helga.

He glanced from the left side of the wreckage to the right which burned in front of him. Everybody looked very melancholy. To them it felt like unluckiness, to Arnold it felt like fate. He wasn't meant to get out of Hillwood; He wasn't supposed to find his friends or rescue his parents. ..and now, his intervention, it cost him dearly. Arnold looked over at Gerald who was sprawled on the ground, talking to his wounded brother.

"You should go to him Arnold. You know he doesn't blame you for this." Stella said. Arnold looked back at her.

"Who's to say he does? I got him on the plane in the first place, I decided Curly was trusting enough to let him on the plane..." Arnold refuted.

"Arnold, you know, I was scared when I had you in me during my time in the jungle. Miles always had _one_ more thing to take care of before heading back to camp where there was at least an emergency kit. But no, there we were, running from a volcano eruption and Miles had to deliver you himself in the middle of the temple."

"And you weren't upset at all afterward?"

"Of course not! You were so beautiful when I held you. And we made it out didn't we? If the forces of the jungle weren't looking out for us we wouldn't have made it this far. All I can blame your father for is not thinking of what to name you before I had to butt in..." Arnold chuckled, "The only way to know for sure is to talk to people. I know Gerald will be grateful if you went to be there for him in his grief."

Arnold silently nodded, stood up and walked over to him. Stella and Bob began to help Phil who was trying to start a fire from the cabin seats and the leaking gasoline.

Arnold sat in the dirt next to Gerald, dried tears on both his cheeks and the veins pulsed in his hand which strongly gripped Jamie's. The sand drank the blood that leaked from Jamie's back. The gauss they found on the plane was needing to be changed again, if there was more gauss to use...

"Hey there he is…hehe," Jamie chuckled, coughing painfully, "Skirtman." Gerald laughed as well, although some sniffles leaked through with his giggle. He looked at Arnold whose eyes spoke volumes without opening his mouth.

"Is he going to make it?" Arnold said with his eyes.

Gerald twitched his eyebrows as if to say, "He won't make it through the night." Arnold was quiet, for a second, a weighted cloud seemed to push down on Arnold's body. His mind started to tremble and his chest tightened.

"Jamie, how're you feeling man?" Arnold asked.

"Like hell…Curly did me good, glad that bastard paid…" Gerald nodded in agreement. "To imagine, that was the same kid you guys got along with when ya'll were young…" Jamie coughed more, blood sprayed from his mouth, little drops leaked down one side of his lips.

"Take it easy Jamie. You need rest while we take care of that wound."

"Arnold," Jamie replied, "This is a desert. No need for bed side manner…just let me talk to my bro, one last time, okay?" Jamie finished. Arnold nodded. Gerald watched as Arnold walked away.

"And Arnold," Jamie called, grunting from his pain. Arnold looked back, "Don't give up on these people, they need you." He said. Arnold smiled and nodded. Jamie let his head fall back down to the ground. Jamie's comment may have sparked a little light in Arnold's heart once again, licking at the negativity that clouded his mind.

Arnold walked back to the main wreckage where Bob, Phil, and Suzie attempted to stoke the existing fire with more debris. He passed them and went over to where Sid was tending to Charlie.

"How's this guy doing?" Arnold asked.

"Still breathing." Sid said. Arnold's heart thumped in his chest. Sid glanced at Charlie, still no sign of life but his chest continued to pump air in and out.

"Maybe after a little more rest, he'll wake up soon." Arnold said. Sid nodded, although reluctantly. "Hang in there Sid, he'll be fine, stay close to him okay? You know I trust you." He said. Sid nodded again, this time more optimistic. Sid didn't feel fully redeemed but he was glad to know Arnold accepted him. As if there was ever a doubt Arnold would've rejected him in the first place.

Arnold went back to his parents who were discussing Victor. Helga had gone over to say her good byes to Jamie.

"Where is he?" Arnold asked.

"Jamie had some cuffs, we locked him in the cabin." Miles replied.

"I want to talk to him."

"Are you sure that's a good ide-"

"Dad." Arnold interrupted. Miles looked his son in the eyes, he wasn't the kid he saw for all those ten years anymore. He was a man who wanted to help his father. Miles then nodded reluctantly and they walked towards the cabin, torn and bent in ruins but still intact in certain places.

"Arnold, you don't know this guy like I do." Miles said.

"He was gonna take us all back to San Lorenzo right?" Arnold asked, "He's after the Corazon isn't he?"

"RIght." Miles said reluctantly, realizing he had forgotten how intelligent his son was.

"I want to know what he's thinking. What he's after." Arnold added as he walked. Miles followed his son in, like a papa bear to his cub.

"Arnold, maybe I should talk first.."

"-Curly tried to kill us and Victor was the one to try talking him out of it. Why would he try to save us if we're his 'enemy'?" Arnold said. Miles stayed quiet. The two climbed through the wreckage until they came across Victor, on the ground, his arms locked in cuffs around a chair that was still attached to the hull. Arnold and Miles got down on his level. Victor looked at them in high esteem but still had a touch of fear in his breathing.

Miles said, "Let's talk."

"I have blatant proof that I was not in any way responsible for bringing down your plane and yet you still treat me like such a monster. I wonder why?" Victor replied, looking at his cuffed wrists, his charm still bright as ever even in his torn suit, puffy face, splotched with purple inflamed bruises and a long red blooded line extending from his forehead to his left cheek.

"No games, you're not conning your way out of here."Miles said.

"How do you expect me to 'con' my way out of being cuffed to plane wreckage and having nothing within a hundred mile radius of us? What could we possibly have to talk about?" Victor asked.

"You were gonna take us to San Lorenzo," Arnold chimed in, "I want to know why."

"To take you on a golden safari, take pictures, sing at a luau, oh wait that's Hawai-" Miles interrupted him with a punch to his face. The fist's pain hurt enough if it wasn't for the cut on his face intensifying the pain.

Victor spat blood out and looked back up, "Do you remember anything from the last time you were there? Do you have any idea of the power that you _witnessed_. Anybody with a brain stem would learn to be grateful for what they experienced, not everyone is worthy." Miles and Arnold just looked at each other in confusion, Victor's strange cultish tone was a new key change to them.

"Ten years ago, you were there, you saw things you probably couldn't believe at the time. And yet you still choose to ignore the events around you…events that relate to that shadowy past."

"You know what's happening to us don't you?" Arnold said, "You know about these special powers Gerald and I possess, and why we have them. You know why Charlie is immune don't you?"

"Well, he's not the only one, you all are." Victor said. Arnold looked at him in disbelief, "You ever wonder why when the infection first started that some people in your town were overwhelmed in minutes while others took hours, even days before the virus overwhelmed them? Now how can a virus take longer to infect one person while another can be taken over in the blink of an eye?"

"Victor, you're gonna give us answers whether you like it or not," Miles raised his hands to showcase the wreckage and as if to present Victor with their situation as a grand prize winner, "Plus the way I see it we have all the time in the world to talk. So why don't you start, before we make sure you're the first to starve to death."

"You're not getting the big picture here-ACK!" Victor abruptly started coughing. He lurched over to the side, hurling up wheezing coughs. Blood sprayed with every cough.

"Victor?" Miles asked out of mild concern.

"I'm fine…just…let me be."

It was then that Arnold noticed, while Victor was turned to the side, he saw Victor's stretched out arm. Near the elbow, the veins in Victor's arm looked more swollen than the surrounding area. They seemed to change color, morphing into a brownish purple hue. Arnold noticed how the miscolored and misshapen veins spread up his arm and centered around his right hand thumb which was bruised with a greenish hue.

"Your arm, Victor." Arnold said.

"It's fine." Victor said. Both Arnold and Miles sighed in frustration. They'll have to keep him alive if they wanted answers. Arnold stood up, and left Miles to look after him.

Arnold left the cabin and back out into the night sky. He looked around at the bland field around him. It was a chaotic world that somehow he and his friends had survived in…how was it the plane crashed and tore itself to shreds, yet not a single one of them were harmed in a major way. With all his plans in ruin, and his family stranded in the Nevada desert...

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard sniffles coming from the group. Gerald was slumped on a passenger chair, sunk in the cool desert sand. Everybody else was standing or sitting around him. Arnold looked off in the distance, the dark figure of a body lay on the ground, covered by a piece of tarp, lifeless. A single hand jutted out from under the cover. The body lay motionless. Arnold realized that was where Jamie was resting.

Arnold walked over to the group who noticed him. Gerald lifted his head and looked at Arnold. The two made more conversation with their eye contact than they would have with words. Arnold approached him with open arms. Gerald returned with his own. The two held each other in a tight embrace, like the friends they always were…It felt like a different story to Arnold. Things were not going to be the same…Jamie was gone.

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To be continued.


	22. Camp Out

**_Hey Zombies_**

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 _Camp Out_

Sid was the last one to drop dirt on the mound. He gently padded down the dirt and made it smooth. In his hand was a jutted piece of metal, slightly bent for picking up dirt and long enough for plenty of leverage. It was this handmade tool that Sid used to bury Jamie. Sid set the shovel next to the newly conceived grave and backed away, standing next to everyone else who surrounded the large dirt mound in a wide circle. Behind them, Charlie laid, still unconscious on a large piece of fabric torn from the seats. Across from Sid, stood Arnold and Gerald side by side. Arnold held Helga's hand as he, she, and Gerald walked towards the mound. The three of them stood tall together. Arnold let go of Helga's grip and walked closer. He held a cross made of metal strips in his hand which he stabbed into the dirt when he was close enough to the mound. Arnold and Helga backed away as Gerald stayed put. He took in a deep breath.

"Sorry I wasn't there for you when you left for the army bro…you were so good to me throughout...and..I'm gonna miss you. Sorry I didn't get to catch up as much as we wanted. Don't know what I'm gonna do without you but..I've got my friends here. Rest of the family," Gerald smiled as he looked around at everyone who smiled back at him. His and Arnold's eyes locked for a second and Arnold nodded slightly. Gerald looked back to the grave, "Say hi to Dad for me up there will you Jamie-O?...And…Mom too,…and Timber-." Gerald couldn't finish the name. He broke down in tears. Arnold immediately ran to his side, so did Sid and Helga. The adults watched as their grown children embraced their friend, all of them in tears as they cried over Jamie's grave.

A huge breeze fluttered in the sky, chilling everybody to the bone. The sun started to peak over the horizon as the morning started. The rays glided over the desert sand as the breeze carried little particles through the air, bringing with them a chilling sense of ambiguity for what the future held.

 **.**

 **The next day**

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It was around noon, the sun hung high in the sky. Gerald sat next to the mound, staring at it, his knees were tucked under his feet. He had already been there for hours since everybody began stirring that morning. Sid, and Arnold saw him there when they woke up to continue their salvaging of the plane hull, seeking more elements of survival. It was mid day and they continued to strip what they could from the wreckage, pulling apart every piece of metal they could and gathering what was scattered around inside the passenger cabin. Helga was nearby with Charlie, constantly checking his heart rate, still pumping but faint. The plane wreckage was starting to look skeleton. Most of the seats were used for fires at night time, and anything they could siphon from the plane's gas tank was used to start them. The lighter they had was pocketed from Jamie's belt. Bob and Miles were nearby discussing plans for what the group's next move was going to be. Of course he and Miles didn't always agree on everything.

"Same shit as yesterday…Gerald hasn't budged." Sid said.

"Yeah I know." Arnold agreed.

"The guy lost his brother Sid, you think he's gonna be all hunky dory right away?" Helga argued, hearing the two talk from her location. Sid and Arnold continued to work for a while, but Sid's thoughts continued to race.

"Maybe we should say something." Sid said, practically ignoring Helga's abrupt comment. Arnold looked at Sid who looked back at him.

Arnold sighed and sat the scraps of metal he had in his hand down on the ground. He slowly rose to his feet and walked towards Gerald and the dirt mound. As he walked, there was a low rumble in the night sky, and out of the corner of his eye, Arnold could see a flash of light.

He passed his mother who was tending to Miles' head and arm bandages, using minimal resources from the plane's first aid kit.

"Gerald." Arnold spoke. As always, Gerald didn't reply, at this point, Arnold would have done what he did the last few times he tried this and walk away. But this time he was persistent. Arnold got closer to him, he could see one of Gerald's hands twirling a small pendant with his fingers and the other was in his pocket, holding something large and bulky.

"Gerald…you know we have plenty of work to do, we're gonna be picked up soon and…and we'll be rescued…"Arnold recognized he was spewing smoke before he even began to babble. He decided to raise his hand and put it on Gerald's shoulder.

Gerald snapped, and from his pocket, he drew a Colt pistol, thumbed the hammer and aimed it right at Arnold's face.

Everybody saw it and stood up alarmed. A voice cried "Gerald!" although Arnold couldn't distinguish who it came from, on the basis he was paralyzed by his fear. He stared as Gerald's hands began to grow orange again, the mystical power that Gerald beheld was emanating once again. Off in the distance the group could hear more rumbling.

"Stay…..away…from him." Gerald spoke very quietly…smoke erupting from his fingers as they slowly burned the metal on the gun he held, not causing Gerald any harm but Arnold could feel the heat shooting from the barrel onto his face, covering it with a odd warmth.

"It's okay, Gerald. Take it easy." Arnold said, choking on his spit, "Everything's fine, I'll leave you alone for a little longer, okay?" Arnold said. Gerald said nothing and he put the hammer back on the gun and put it back in the holster. Arnold walked away. Miles, as if on cue, walked up to Gerald behind him. Stella called out to him and Arnold tried to pull him away, Miles shrugged both of them off, with a mild concern for Gerald's safety instead of theirs. Arnold went back to Helga and Charlie.

"Where'd you get the gun, Gerald?" Miles said, looking at the pistol, almost recognizing it.

"From you." Gerald replied, his eyes still glued on the dirt mound.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want anyone touching my brother." Gerald said. Miles patted his belt, dumbfounded; realizing Gerald had indeed snatched the pistol he had used to escape Kappa with.

"Okay Gerald, have it your way…you can protect him all you want, just remember, we all want to help you, we're not trying to hurt you." Miles said. With that, and the only response from Gerald being silence; he turned and walked back to where Stella was. Helga and Arnold watched from their sitting position.

A clap of thunder roared from the southern direction, giving the built up rumbles an uneasy climax. A majority of the group looked toward the sound and saw fireworks of lightning flashing in the sky. The south emitted a feeling of dread and terror with its dark clouds, a wart compared to the dreary blue sky that surrounded them in the other three directions.

"Think that's gonna hit us?" Arnold asked. Miles walked up beside him, both staring at the towering clouds.

"Looks like it." Miles said. Helga looked at the incoming storm, and then down at Charlie.

Suddenly, Charlie's nostrils began to flare. His chest began to inflate, taking in new deeper breaths. Helga excitingly got closer to him.

"Charlie?" Helga asked, panicked, "Charlie, talk to me, speak." Charlie began to cough, sucking in more air but choking on the scratchiness in his dry throat. Arnold and Miles heard and went to them, the commotion attracted everyone else too, drawing them in. Gerald, however, continued to sit by the mound.

"My god, he's okay!" Arnold roared. Everybody looked, "Charlie's gonna be okay!" In an instant everybody gathered around to welcome Charlie back to the twisted reality they lived in.

"Hey give the kid room, people!" Grandpa Phil hollered. Everybody was relieved as Charlie regained consciousness.

Charlie couldn't remember a thing since he collapsed. He was saddened by the news of Jamie's death. The scar where he was bitten continued to gain color. It was not a healthy sight. Last thing he remembered, Charlie thought, was Miles threatening Victor back at Kappa before he passed out. Although the group felt somber that Charlie couldn't tell them anything, they were still thankful he was alive. His regaining consciousness was the next stroke of hope this group had since they realized no one was harmed in the wreckage; a circumstance that people like Arnold and his father continued to ponder. Even Victor, still cuffed inside the plane hull thought about reasons as to how or why no one was actually hurt.

 _The next day, no more than 48 hours after they crashed_ ; Victor tossed and turned inside the hull, struggling as people stepped over him continuing to strip the plane of anything useful on the inside. Bob and Miles had just cleared out the rest of the passenger section. Although it was a good opportunity to smack talk to his captives, Victor continued to be the wiser and stayed quiet. Miles and Bob exited the plane. The storm clouds loomed closer, the thunder grew louder and the lightning was brighter.

Arnold watched it approach. He loved rain. He remembered when he first bought the ring he was going to propose to Helga with. He went on a campaign trip with Marty Green to Chicago. It was raining cats and dogs for the three days he was there. When they went through the mall, the diamond caught his eye and he had to have it. The cost cut his bank account in half, but at the time it was worth it. Arnold realized only a higher power could know where the ring was now….

He was interrupted when Bob called a group meeting. "Hey guys! We got a problem here."

"What's going on?" Suzie asked.

"Plane's stripped of everything, we got the passenger and cockpit sections cleared out, got all the fuel siphoned, just one thing left, the cargo hold." Miles said.

"What about it?"

"There's a cache of something in there, and luckily we can get to it, the crash busted a hole in the bottom of the plane, but we'd need someone small to climb inside."

"Isn't there like a hatch that can get into it from the passenger cabin or something?" Suzie suggested.

"Eduardo's plane is a Class 2, cheaper design, we can only get into it from a hatch on the outside, which is burrowed, and it'd take days to dig under and into the hold." Miles replied.

"We were adventurers sure, but we never really focused on…investment." Stella said, helping with Miles' excuse. Miles and Stella began to think of Eduardo. He was an FTi scientist like they were but Victor forced him into early retirement. Last they remember, he took one last trip to San Lorenzo and never came back…

"So which one of you kids is up for a little snatch and grab? Helga, wanna give your old man a hand?" Bob asked.

"Dad, I'd barely fit in there, I'm too tall." Helga replied.

"Yeah but…" Bob said.

"Bob, let it go, she's done doing the dirty work." Miles spoke up. Bob just smirked at how Miles had just chided him.

"I'll go." Erupted Charlie's hoarse but audible voice. The group turned.

"I've always been the 'small scrawny kid', let me go in, get whatever's in there."

"Sure you've got the chest for it?" Arnold asked.

"As far as I know, I feel fine. I just gotta crawl in there, grab the merch and get out—ack!" Just then Charlie started coughing violently, he fell to the dirt.

People became panicked again, Helga, Arnold, and Sid ran to his side. Gerald did no more than glance at the crowd in its frantic state before he turned back to his grieving, still distant from them.

"Get some water!" Miles hollered. Phil ran to the case of water that was part of the stash in the passenger section, only two bottles were left...

Phil came back with one and began to pour it over Charlie's still active face. He carefully swallowed the driblets that flowed past his lips and down his throat. The lukewarm liquid relieved his throat and Charlie began to breath smoothly once more, the moisture cooling his tongue.

"We can't do this…he's too weak, Who knows what could be happening to him." Stella said.

"No," Charlie hacked and coughed, "I'm fine. Just let me get in there and out, whatever's down there, I know you guys need it." Charlie said as he continued to hack up his own lungs.

"If you're doing this, you're going to rest first. We can try later when the sun starts setting and you've had time to cool down." Arnold suggested.

"Don't think we've got time for that." Phil said as he pointed at the sky. Everybody looked up as the storm clouds began to roll over them. Slowly but surely, the people began to feel drops hitting them. Miles tapped his cheek where a drop of rain had landed on him.

"We gotta get down there and fast." He said, "If that rain causes a flash flood, whatever's down there could get ruined."

"Who cares about the cache, we'll be up to our necks in wet sand if this storm gets worse!" Bob interrupted.

"Get me up, I'm going now." Charlie said as he struggled to his feet.

"Charlie, no, you need to res—" Arnold began.

"I'm going Arnold, it's now or never." Charlie refuted. Arnold stared at him for a second, puzzling over his determination but decided to accept it for what it was. He nodded.

"Be careful."

Charlie continued to struggle to his feet as he hobbled across the thinly mudded desert terrain towards the plane. Arnold followed.

"Gimme a light." He said. Arnold handed him Jamie's lighter.

A large boulder jutted from the plane wreckage which was tilted at an angle. The hole was bent inward, the boulder sticking in from the side. Sand had already seeped into the cargo hold. Charlie got on all fours and stuck his head inside, carefully climbing past the boulder which blocked part of the wrecked entrance. Charlie struck the lighter to find his way inside. A bright flash was followed by a clap of thunder as the rain began to pour quicker, drops of water kicking up little bits of sand as they landed and soaked into the ground. The depths of the ground began to absorb higher and higher before the surface of the dirt began to soak in water. All around, the group could see puddles forming as the rain flooded the area around them. Their feet began to sink into the ground.

Miles looked around at his surroundings and realized the danger was only escalating.

"Arnold, get everyone on top of the passenger cabin now."

"Why not just get them inside?" Arnold suggested.

"This whole area could flood; we need to get them to higher ground." Miles replied. Arnold nodded and grabbed Helga by the hand. Stella, Phil, and the others followed as they ran around to the other side of the plane hull in hopes of finding a way to climb on top.

The fire kissed Charlie's fingers with its heat as the wind that entered the hole with him blew all around. Every now and then Charlie had to kill the lighter to let it cool off before he began searching again. During times when the lighter was extinguished, Charlie felt around in the pure darkness. On one of these periods, Charlie felt hardened cloth, he followed it to a stitch, and then felt a handle. He lit the lighter once it was cooled off and stared at a large brown bag. He could see a faint pattern of camouflage on the fabric. Charlie stuffed his knees under his chest and pushed upward until his whole body was fit inside the small cargo area. He pulled the bag closer to him and felt around for an opening or zipper. Charlie wasted no time once he found it, opening it up to reveal four Mossberg shotguns, two MP5 sub machine guns, and two M4A1 assault rifles, next to that, a plastic bag filled with papers and what looked like a black leather journal. He looked in horror as he raised the lighter higher to reveal the rest of the cargo hold, where he could see at least five other bags of a similar design.

Outside, the rain was not letting up. Arnold watched as the clouds swarmed the skies and the water began to rise as the moistened ground failed to absorb it. Puddles began to form. By that time, Sid was the last one that Arnold helped up onto the plane whilst everyone else was sitting down and letting their clothes absorb the rain, waiting for it to stop. Arnold looked down and saw as the ground turned to mud.

Miles started to walk in circles to keep his mud soaked feet from getting stuck.

The sounds of rain pouring on hard metal and claps of thunder were all too familiar to Miles, but the grunts and snarls that followed into his right ear were something new. He turned behind him to see four warm bodies, with drool falling from their lips, soaking in with the rain that pattered on their heads. Their decaying bodies and grotesque form were not something Miles wanted to see. He looked back to make sure everyone else was safe and sighed with relief to see all of his group had safely made it on top of the plane wreckage. It seemed the infected bodies wandered closer to the wreckage, but gave no sign that they had detected the group of survivors. It was only unveiled to them when one spotted Miles standing there in his soaked clothes, breathing heavily through his chest…

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To Be Continued.


	23. The Others

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _The Others_

The rain halted the second group of drones from launching, extending their delay another day at least. The technicians were able to beat the storm with the first group to scan the eastern parts of the Nevada desert earlier in the afternoon.

Goose watched as the engineering squad carried the drones from their launch pads back into the storage vehicles several feet away in the yard.

FTi Alpha was about 30 square miles of land, the largest of the FTi installations. With several buildings expanding on all branches for FTi research, it was the most efficient station of all eight. Day to day operations involved communicating with the three stations that were still operating in the western part of the country, battling the infection as well as biology, breaking done what the ravenous infection was _exactly_. Marshall Goose Beckett lead the brigade that made up FTi's military group, split amongst the eight stations around the country, with about 2,000 soldiers in Alpha alone at his command.

Goose stuck his head out from the doorway that he stood under, protected from the rain.

"Corporal! How many drones you have left?" He asked from the radio on his shoulder. Out in the rain, a soldier looked at his own radio, grabbed it and clicked it on. A muzzled grainy voice uttered on Goose's speaker,

"We've got just these two units left! We'll break them down and secure them, should take 30 minutes." The soldier out in the rain replied.

"Make it twenty and I'll buy you a beer in the mess hall. This storm is not letting up mind you." Goose replied.

"Yes sir!" The soldier replied joyously, admiring Goose's firm order and his subtle friendliness as a commanding officer.

Goose smiled for the first time in days, as he dropped his radio and shut the door. The hallways of Alpha were well lit, there was a bulb every few feet that cast a bright white light, washing out the beige yellow walls in a metaphorical milk. Goose had to squint to adjust his eyes as he traversed, adapting from the dark stormy atmosphere on the outside to the bright comfort of the interior hall he walked in.

Goose arrived at the central communications room ten minutes later. Beeps, hums, and whirs echoed from the machines surrounding the room. A single soldier sat at his desk, turning a knob and patting the headphones on his ears.

"Parks." Goose called. The soldier stood at attention in less than a second.

"Sir."

"Gimme a full report, specialist."

"Well, we already know about the east coast, been scanning for the last couple months like you asked. Omega's still not pinging and Staff Sergeant Biggs has officially written it off on us, having been the first station to go dark in the initial outbreak. The other stations out west have nothing to report, the quarantine perimeter is still standing on all major roads and the U.S. army has outposts from northern Texas to Idaho with no signs of infected individuals. Krieg's confirmed this means the infection is not airborne, yet."

"Tell me something I don't know kid...what about Victor's branch, Kappa, still no word?"

"There is something new you should know...we finally decrypted that message we received from Kappa two days ago, we found out it was an automatic distress signal that was set up to deploy when the perimeter fences went down. Not sure why we had to encode the _distress_ signal, could be an old glitch or signs of tampering, but regardless, we can't send a convoy to retrieve crucial information and any personnel who survived, while this rain is delaying the drone launches. Who knows what's out there."

"And that's the first transmission we've gotten in months."

"Correct, about 48 hours before the outbreak at Omega was the last transmission we received from Kappa. We haven't been able to contact Victor since."

Goose just stood there, his mind spinning with thoughts and theories... _two days before the impending apocalypse begins and the most prestigious branch of FTi lead by his most prominent scientist goes dark...it couldn't be possible. Was Victor's ambition getting worse?_

"Keep digging specialist, you're doing a great job." Goose said.

Elsewhere, a light clicked on in a white room, the reflection made the room brighter with their rays. Jars with murky green liquid sat on shelves that extended across half of the laboratory. In the middle of it, sat a smaller figure gentleman, his goatee bristled against the microscope he was resting his eyes on, dressed in a white coat. The man took a small needle filled with a little dose of purple liquid and pressed it on the sample in front of him, lightly pressing on the plunger.

Through his eyes, the scientist saw little blue dots, swimming around in a clear liquid. Slowly, red dots started to slide into view. The blue orbs started to grow frantic as the red ones approached closer. The scientist watched in horror as the red and blue orbs started to merge, forming new purple ones with little black thorns. The scientist felt relieved for a moment that blood cells couldn't scream.

Just then the door opened and Goose entered the room.

"How goes the trials Krieg?"

The scientist, Desmond Krieg, looked at him, "Not good sir. I've had to redo my experiment several times. I'm running out of ideas."

"Well start over if you have to. Time is an essence here, you should know that. We're losing major cities one by one east to west. Before long this son of a bitch is gonna break the western quarantine and who knows what then..Do you have _any ideas_ on what the hell this thing is?" Goose asked.

"Here's the scary part sir...after seeing the behavior of infected cells and their interaction with healthy cells, I can confirm that Shadow-1 is viral _and_ parasitic in nature."

Krieg's answer left Goose puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that infected cells appear to move in an automated fashion, but they seem to gain sentience the closer they are to cells that are sterile."

"So they're alive?"

"Well of course they're alive, cells are always living and breathing, but these cells...are _more_ alive in a way. When they sense healthy cells nearby they grow an abnormal lust to destroy them and take over their bodies."

"And you can't figure out why." Goose confirmed. Krieg nodded with hesitation.

"We'll keep experimenting on it, but we can't find any logical results...we've been testing for weeks."

"Keep going doctor..." was all Goose could utter. The horror of Krieg's results left Goose dumbfounded. _Was Victor right the whole time? Did this start in San Lorenz-_

"Everything has a logical explanation, we'll do what we can Marshall." Krieg replied, interrupting Goose's thought process.

Goose nodded and took his leave.

Krieg's discussion repeated in his head like an audio tape. Goose knew he had to save lives, but how could he if no one was communicating. He had a primary respect for Victor during the three years he knew him. He always seemed ambitious, but it felt too assuming to think someone like him could make something as deadly as Shadow-1 and deliberately cause it to spread across the country.

The thoughts continued to cycle as Goose returned to his quarters.

FTi Alpha housed almost a thousand people, more were pouring in every day when squads went out and returned with survivors. Goose knew he had to be a soldier, he had to command, but this situation scared him. For a second, Goose remembered he was still human. Alpha was only one of three bases still standing. Theta was up north in Idaho, and Beta sat by the coast in Southern California, both were still in human hands as far as Goose knew but he hadn't heard from them in days...Goose proceeded to drift to sleep as the thoughts spiraled in his brain and the rain poured over his head, trickling on the ceiling above him, a clap of thunder was the last thing he heard before his mind slipped into...

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A nightmare from his days in Afganistan woke Goose up in a lukewarm sweat. He looked at his watch. It read 08:12. It was the first time Goose slept through his alarm. Goose put much less effort into putting on his uniform. The days melted together and drained him as every hour passed. Goose let his outfit droop on his body. His tie was a bit loosened. Goose did not look like a soldier, he was worn in, like a six year old dollar.

Meal times were the only times of the day where soldier and survivor felt like humans in their ordinary lives. For those thirty minutes that breakfast, lunch, and dinner were served, everybody forgot that the world was ending around them. The 'cafeteria' was set up in one of the empty hangars after the choppers that were housed there were brought down in the initial outbreak. Makeshift sleeping areas were spread across the floor and a kitchen area was set up on one end where volunteers served the meals. Goose had to sprint across the pavement to beat the rain which was still drizzling down over the post. It was a bit lighter, Goose assumed the storm was almost finished passing over them. It would be hitting the eastern Nevada deserts real soon.

Goose snuck behind the tables where food was served and snatched an MRE out of a storage bin. He maneuvered through the crowds of people who sat at makeshift tables, chuckling laughing and having a grand time with each other. Goose just wanted a quiet isolated spot to eat by himself. Then he heard a voice.

"General Goose!" cried the young female voice. Goose turned to see Phoebe Heyerdahl sitting with her group, Tai and Mai Hyunh, Stinky, Harold, Nadine, and Eugene, unharmed, and still worn in from their travels.

Phoebe beckoned him over, "Come sit with us General!" She said with a smile. Goose stayed quiet and approached her table. He reluctantly sat down and unwrapped the foil on his food.

"How are you guys doing?" Goose uttered.

"Better now. You guys have a nifty operation going on here." Stinky said.

"Yeah, we never got to thank you for your boys coming to pick us up off the road!" Harold added.

"I was just doing my job...I should apologize for the chloroform and having the lab boys scrub you down when you all got here." Goose said gloomily.

"You were being cautious." Phoebe said, shrugging her shoulder in agreement, "Don't be too hard on yourself. You got us to safety, that's what counts. We wouldn't have lasted another day out there."

"What were you all doing out there in the first place?" Goose asked.

"We were initially held up in a house, somewhere in Philadelphia, with others from Hillwood. You remember Arnold, don't you?" Phoebe replied.

"Yeah, foot ball headed kid, right? He had the most sense out of all you brats when I subbed for your teacher back in the day." Goose replied, his humor started picking up, a sign of mental healing.

Everybody chuckled in response to Goose's reference to the past.

"Our group got split up when a squad of soldiers came and took five of us, Arnold included. They said they were affiliated with FTi." Goose's smile faded when Phoebe spoke.

"Did they say which station they were from?" Goose asked.

"Can't rightly remember General." Stinky replied.

"Kappa." Said a voice further down, it was Nadine. Mai and Tai sat on either side of her, enjoying their own food.

"Yeah that was it!" Harold agreed.

"They said they were under orders to retrieve Arnold and four others to bring back to their post. Something called the 'Hades Initiative'."

Goose looked at them, wide eyed...his heart dropped like it did the day before, talking to Krieg.

"What's the problem General?" Eugene asked. Goose was dumbfounded. He hadn't heard those words in years. Goose didn't know any of these kids, but the fact they were now involved, he knew he had to explain _something_.

Just then, Goose heard someone call out, "General!" He turned to see Parks, his comms officer, standing over his shoulder, he whispered in Goose's ear, "You need to come see this." Then he left. Goose stood up and leaned over the table.

"Find one of the lieutenants and have them escort you to my quarters in an hour." He muttered, "Tell them 'the chickens have come to roost'." The group looked confused. Goose was confident they'd follow through but he couldn't worry now, duty calls.

Goose arrived at the comms station in three minutes, almost cutting his travel time in half. He entered to see Parks monitoring the radar screen. "What is it?"

"We've got signals from the last drone group. We received pings last night but we didn't want to wake you. There's a massive group of bodies somewhere in the north eastern quadrant of the Nevada desert.

"Infected?"

"Some of the heat signals we picked up look clean, the imagery is a bit cloudy but based on their movements, they look like survivors."

"What do you mean _some_ of them?"

"Further east there's a larger group comprised of infected, they appear to be moving closer to the group of survivors."

"Send a squad to get them immediately then, we don't want them getting caught in this storm."

"There are a couple problems though General." Parks said. Goose looked at him. "We'll have to send ground vehicles to get them, the chop is too much for our aircraft."

"Let's hope they keep a quick pace to get out there then, what else?"

"These people, they're grouped up near what appears to be plane wreckage." Parks replied. Goose looked confused but started to realize...

"It's the airplane that you ordered our artillery to shoot down two days ago..."

.

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To Be Continued.


	24. Safety

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Safety_

 _Tick tock_ echoed in Arnold's head. It felt like an omniscient presence leaned over him with an Earth sized clock. The scenario didn't seem to make sense to him. While this almighty clock ticked, Arnold stood in the midst of the Nevada desert, rain pouring around him but he couldn't hear sound. The wet sand around him began to pool and well from the consistent rainfall. The sand only swallowed up to his heel but Arnold couldn't move. Horror froze him even more from the images that surrounded him. The rain pooled on top of the plane wreckage. A small river formed from the top of the plane hull and flowed down the outside metal like a river.

Bodies lay on the ground in front of him. Laying over each corpse was an infected individual, feeding on the bodies that sunk into the mud. Some bodies proceeded to thrash about, their arms lifted to the sky but were pulled back down only to be chewed on by more infected that swarmed over them. If there were screams, Arnold couldn't hear them. He felt deaf, but couldn't figure out why.

Each body was distinguished by its face. Arnold could see his parents leaning against the side of the plane, holding hands as the infected swarmed around them, pulling their insides from newly made orifices. The rain grew thicker and heavier. Arnold's clothes began to soak and stick to his skin.

Suddenly, something gripped his leg. Arnold looked down to see a hand gripping his ankle. The hand looked small and feminine in size. He couldn't scream. All he could do was choke on his spit and the rain that slid into his throat as he stared into Helga's eyes. Her hand squeezed Arnold's ankle as an infected man crawled over Helga's back and proceeded to tear her cheek off-The cold sweat sent chills down Arnold's spine as he opened his eyes. His shoulders and back ached the most from the pain that washed over his body. Bright white light sunk between his eyelids as he blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the room he woke up in.

He could feel restraints on his arms and legs. With every joint he tried to move, another wave of pain shot through his body. At the moment, all he could rely on were his eyes to observe his surroundings. Several beeps echoed in his ears, sometimes syncing up every few seconds, almost to the rate of a heartbeat. Around him he could make out two beds in front of him, and one bed on either side of his. There appeared to be a body laying on top of each. The pain prevented him from moving.

"You're a lucky man Colonel." A voice echoed, "We found you in the nick of time it seems." The voice came from Arnold's left. He tried his best to turn his neck, fighting the needles of pain that tickled at his neck and shoulders. He saw a large burly man standing over the bed to his left. The burly man was blurred in figure but his clothes were a mesh of brown and dark green. He could hear more voices, but couldn't recognize them. He let the two blurred figures have their conversation while he attempted to turn to his right. The figure in the right bed looked like a mesh of yellow, black, and white.

Arnold attempted to focus his eyes and the figure began to take shape. He could see a black ski cap laying on the bed, the yellow formed the hair, and the white flattened out into a blanket that wrapped the unconscious figure in comfort. Turned out it was Helga. A small red cut was plastered on her forehead, but no open wound on her cheek like he saw in his dream.

Arnold attempted to speak words but he could only squeak and croak with his vocal chords.

"And you! Mr. Shortman." The burly voice said as it approached Arnold's bed. He looked at him, and saw a face he never thought he'd see again, Marshall Goose, in his brown and green army outfit, arms wrapped behind his back.

"Goose? It's you?!" Arnold uttered in a raspy voice.

"Well, General Goose now, call me Marshall kid, we can skip the prosperities. Been a long time Arnold. Your father says you've been a tough kid! You helped several survivors out of Hillwood, and somehow traveled hundreds of miles without a single scratch on any of your group? Outstanding!" Goose's tone was brighter compared to the day before.

"Thank you sir." Arnold couldn't say anything, the questions that wanted to spill out of his mind seemed to cram against one another, like they were shoved into a jammed funnel trying to escape through his words all at once.

"You've had a rough night son, we'll let you rest up here in the infirmary for another day or so and when the doc says so; we'll turn you loose." Goose said, still smiling. It was a funny sight seeing him smile. Flashbacks to Goose's days as his substitute teacher sped through Arnold's head like a flipbook. His third eye felt nostalgic.

"Where is everybody?" was the only question Arnold could squeeze out.

"They're all fine, get some rest son." said another familiar voice. Arnold turned to see his father standing on the opposite side, having gotten up from the bed he had been resting on.

"You've earned it." Miles said with his fatherly smile.

"Dad...Gerald, find Gerald."

"Need something brother?" said yet another familiar voice. Arnold turned toward the door, Gerald stood there, Phoebe by his side. Their hands were locked in intimacy as they walked into the room. Arnold smiled, warmth not from the blankets took over his body. He tried his best to sit up.

"Just take it easy son, we've got the best doctor around keeping an eye on you." Goose said. Arnold successfully sat up to where his back was leaning against the frame behind him. Miles and Goose proceeded to leave the room as Gerald swarmed Arnold, patting his shoulder.

Arnold started, "Gerald, listen, about-"

"It was all me." Gerald interrupted. Arnold just looked at him.

"It all happened so fast, the escape, Curly going berserk, the plane crash. We had been fine up to that point, nothing went wrong. You were right about everything and I'm sorry I doubted you. In the moment, I let my guard down. Jamie's gone and I can't change that. I should've helped you in the attack…If Victor wasn't still locked up, those things could've…"

"It's okay, Gerald. We're safe now. Goose's soldiers got us all out right?" Arnold said. Gerald just nodded in subtle agreement.

As soon as Miles and Goose left the room, Miles pulled Goose up to the wall, "Sir, you have to do me a favor."

"What is it Miles?"

"You can't tell them how the plane went down." Goose just stood there in silence, "They've been through enough. These kids thought battling the infected was hard enough without the living being a threat." Goose continued to stay silent, looking to his left and right monitoring for others, realizing that Miles was aware of the situation.

"You were following protocol, and miraculously we all got out. We're gonna be thinking about that till we're old men…" Miles continued.

"We are old men Miles." Goose said with a wink, his bit brought up Miles' spirits, "Victor was trying to reactivate the Hades Initiative." He continued.

Miles looked at him in surprise, "How do you know?"

"Arnold's friends, the ones he left behind. A team out there picked them up. They said they knew your son and so I had them flown here under my protection."

"What the hell were your men doing so far east?"

"Omega fell in the initial outbreak and we've heard from no one else for weeks Miles. I had to take action for the sake of everyone else. If they weren't commencing protocol, I had to. You need to look into Victor's case. I tried explaining things to Arnold's friends but it might be easier for you. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Miles responded, and the two men parted ways.

Goose took several turns through the mazes of FTi Alpha. He arrived at the containment room. The lights inside cast a shade of green over the cells that interlocked with one another. A majority of them were empty save for one in the far corner. Goose walked up to it, and looked down.

Victor was curled up beside his cot, not laying on top of it, his arms were crossed, one covering the other. His torn dress shirt, and worn out pants showed signs of a successful man torn down from his prime. His plans in ruin, and the shoe on the other foot. He shook violently, his skin was a pasty white. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Growing sicker and sicker from the plane rescue to his arrival at Alpha.

"General." Victor said, acknowledging Goose's presence. His voice shivered as his vocal chords vibrated.

"Hello Victor." Goose said, "I'm gonna make this quick, I expect full detail, or you'll find yourself in a court marshal, clearly not something you can handle in your current condition."

"Ooh harsh," Victor sneered, "Civil punishment in the midst of an epidemic killing hundreds of thousands of people every day. I don't deserve such honor." He said sarcastically, coughing. Spittles of blood and phlegm splattered on the concrete ground.

"That's enough Victor."

"When is it ever not enough General Goose? How can you expect me to help you when you have over a dozen people here who would be more than willing to see my head on a spike?"

"Your science team is gone. Kappa is in ruins, and you haven't reported back in two months. What happened?" Goose asked, ignoring Victor's manipulative pleas.

"I accidentally discovered dry ice cream..." Victor snapped. Goose remained unphased, Victor's humor flew right over his head. He sighed in frustration.

"You're on thin ice Victor. If you won't give us any answers, it'll be harder for you in the long run." Goose said, "Now talk to me, what the hell were you thinking, why were these kids who were your prisoners talking about the Hades Initiative? That project was swept under the rug years ago."

Victor was silent.

"We have several young adults with injuries, another in critical condition, and the fate of mankind could've been destroyed by your wrongdoing. What the hell were you doing? You gave the order to Omega didn't you?"

"Oh so everyone's already pointing the finger eh? The incident at Omega, that was my fault from several thousand miles across the country? Of course it was!"

"You authorized human testing for Shadow-1, an order you were brewing up behind my back... you didn't even give any word to Colonel Shortman before action was taken, nor in the reports Miles was able to retrieve from Kappa that you planned on reversing the condition of tested subjects." Victor was silent again, "Talk to me Victor, it may have been an accident that Shadow-1 broke out, but you had to have found an answer in your recklessness."

Victor looked up at Goose for the first time since they began talking. He uncrossed his arms and held up the one that was covered up. The infection spreading from his finger gripped the veins in his wrist, turning them into purple vines. From the center, a small green glow seeped through his skin on the tip of his thumb. The pain from his hand fighting gravity caused it to shake vigorously.

"You want answers General? Here it is."

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To Be Continued


	25. Purity

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Purity_

The rain showered on the wreckage. Feet ran left and right, plopping in the wet sand beneath them. The snarls and growls of the infected ran amok, trying to grab something to eat. Sadly, the crash survivors were the only ones on the menu. Nadine struggled to climb on top of the plane wreckage, the sides were wet and the softness beneath her kept her from jumping great heights. The only thing keeping her up was Tai's hand gripping hers, attempting to pull her up. The rain soaked between their skin, the slipperiness increased. Before long, Tai couldn't hold any tighter, and Nadine slipped from his hands, plummeting into the pit of infected below.

Tai could only scream as he watched Nadine get ripped apar-he took deep breaths as his eyes opened, and then he sat up, the bed he rested on felt muggy and drenched in moisture. The orderlies would have to clean the sheets again. He turned to his left, and saw his daughter Mai sitting, staring at him from a seated position.

"You talk in your sleep." Mai said with a smile. Tai just looked at her, "Another bad dream?"

Tai nodded, "Terrible terrible dream. I saw the plane, I saw zombies attacking our people, it was so terrifying, I saw you die, I saw Nadine die...

Mai stood up and approached his bed. She took his hand into hers, "You're not losing me again." She said with a smile. Tai looked into her eyes, he could see his wife in his daughter's eyes. He leaned over and saw Nadine resting in the bed next to his.

"She had just passed out. She went to talk to the soldiers with the others a while ago. It was that kid's father, Arnold?"

"Yes Miles! What did he say?"

"I don't know, she just came in and said we shouldn't worry. Then she passed out." Mai responded. It left Tai puzzled as to what was going on...

Gerald and Phoebe could only look up at the ceiling as they rested on their makeshift bed. The hangar was for the most part empty. Refugees were allowed to wander around the mess hall and recreational building while the hangar was their sleeping area. Some people wandered left and right, parents holding their kids. Brothers and sisters hugging and mourning their lost loved ones.

Phoebe and Gerald were just glad to have each other.

"What would've happened if Oscar didn't sacrifice himself...?" Phoebe asked quietly. Gerald was quiet, stroking her shoulder, "If he was still all about his own life when things went downhill, would we have made it out as easily…if at all?"

"I wouldn't know," Gerald said, almost out of fear, "It all seemed to change the moment Oscar closed that hallway gate. His eyes seemed lifeless, almost like he had given up..."

"Wonder how Arnold felt, Oscar was family to him."

"He was family to all of us...even if he was selfish and preserved his own interests." Gerald said, asking all sorts of questions, reality setting in even in their safety net, "Harvey's dead too."

"The mail man?" Phoebe lifted her head from Gerald's shoulder, "How did he..."

"Willy. Willy killed him, then tried to kill us when we went to get the gasoline."

"What happened to everybody..." Phoebe wondered, settling her head back down on Gerald's chest. Silence again.

"We should have a funeral." Gerald chimed up. Phoebe looked at him, "For everybody from Hillwood. Marty, Harvey, Oscar, Mrs. Vitello..."

"I agree." Phoebe said.

Meanwhile, Goose had Victor moved from his cell to the infirmary. Doctor Krieg was going to be with them momentarily. Goose stood over Victor while he laid on the hospital bed, his veins getting murkier and more decayed.

"How did you get your hands on this?" Goose asked, his eyes staring at the glowing spark under Victor's skin.

"I've had it for some time General. You were so wrapped up when Miles and Stella returned from San Lorenzo that I decided to take liberties, I had one of my men take it from the Lorenzo camp.

"And you decided to jam it into your finger?"

"Not at first. Everything was under control at Kappa until these idiots tried to stage a coup on me, I decided to add a little extra security, I surgically implanted it in my thumb."

"I didn't think it was real. even after the head guys down there told me it went missing. I thought Miles and Stella were just delusional during their time stranded in the jungle. I thought the Corazon was something they were on a treasure hunt for."

"You're a fool to think that their time down there was relevant to our research. FTi was a dusty shelf back then. I brought us to where we are now, don't forget that. Now are you going to save my life or not?"

"We'll have to wait for Krieg." Goose replied.

In the laboratory, Krieg had finished another test. As he packed away his equipment, he picked the walkie talkie off his belt and clicked the talk button.

"Ramsay, radio me on channel 4, repeat, channel 4." Krieg clicked off his radio.

Down the hallway, a man in a lab coat sat at his chair. His legs were propped on his desk and his chest breathed heavily. The contents of the magazine he was holding were most likely the cause of his heavy breathing. The man was looking at the glowing curving body of Miss October. The female naked parts got him more excited with every turn of the page.

"Ramsay!" the radio boomed at his waist, startling Ramsay out of his wet dream. He dropped the Playboy magazine and picked up his radio.

"Ramsay here, go ahead doc." he replied into his radio.

"Get to the lab, need help putting experimental gear away, I've got an operation to be at."

"Be right there." Ramsay replied. He clipped the radio to his waist and jumped from his chair, kicking the magazine under his desk.

Krieg picked up a vial with murky green liquid inside as Ramsay busted into the room, "Yes sir, watcha need?"

"Take these vials and put them in the coolant room, I've got to be in the infirmary in twenty."

"What the hell is this?" Ramsay said as he unscrewed one of the vials to get a whiff.

"Stop! It's infected brain matter. Just get it in the coolant room and be prepared for surgery." Krieg ordered.

Ramsay nodded and walked towards a tall metal door. He struggled with the suction but was able to open the door. As he entered, a small itch bugged his left eye and he blindly rubbed it with his finger.

Outside the coolant room, Krieg shut a small metal case and stuffed it under one of the counters. Next thing, he heard a loud crash from the coolant room and a loud scream.

"Ramsay?!" He called. More crashes and breaking glass echoed from the coolant room and Krieg approached it, "Ramsay, you alright?" Krieg cautiously peaked inside. Ramsay was on the ground, his legs sprawled and several containers piled on top of him, in addition to the shattered glass and fluids that surrounded his body. "Ramsay?"

Just then, Ramsay's body began to twitch. His legs began to bend and move, then his arms which pressed against the floor, picking his torso off the ground. The containers and rubble slipped off his body as Ramsay got to his feet and turned around.

Krieg looked in horror to see decay setting on his face, Ramsay's eyes glowed a darkish green hue. Blood appeared to well in his left eye and drooped down his cheek. Instead of a human voice, Ramsay growled and hummed like an animal, staring at Krieg with a lust for hunger in his face.

Suddenly, Ramsay lunged at him, Krieg was quick to shift to his left as Ramsay missed him. Ramsay turned and charged again without hesitation. His jaws wrenched wide open and aimed for Krieg's neck.

Krieg was able to deflect Ramsay's biting jaws as he held his head in both hands. The infected Ramsay was not ready to give up its meal, and before long both guys were on the floor. Ramsay's jaws began to chomp, attempting to bite any part of Krieg's revealed skin. Before long, Ramsay climbed on top, and Krieg was pinned, unable to move either of his arms.

Seeing that he was close to the wall, Krieg attempted to shift, Ramsay followed suit. As they got closer, Krieg got a better grip on Ramsay's head. When he figured he was close enough, Krieg began to shift and move Ramsay's head closer to the wall. Krieg then put all his energy into his arms, and slammed Ramsay's head into the wall. After several hits, Ramsay's head began to bleed more profusely. The sixth slam rendered his body lifeless but his head not entirely intact. Krieg moved from under the now lifeless Ramsay and stood up, careful to not let the blood and pus seep into his eyes or mouth.

Krieg, without hesitation, walked over to the opposite wall and pulled down on the bright red lever. A siren echoed through the halls and red neon lights flickered above on the ceiling. Before long, four soldiers arrived at the open door to the laboratory. Goose was with them.

"Krieg, we were waiting for you in the surgery room, what the hell happened?" Goose asked with alarm.

Krieg could only stand in place and shake as one of the soldiers turned off the alarm. His whole body quaked. Stains of Ramsay's blood were caked on his lab coat. Adrenaline made his hands shake vigorously. He looked at Goose, a shiny glitter in his eyes, like a sign of realization.

"You okay doc?" Goose asked. Krieg breathed for a second.

"Ramsay...got infected...within seconds. It was the fastest reaction I've seen yet..." Krieg replied.

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They found the porn magazine in Ramsay's office, shoved under the desk, "Still had time to be a perv I guess..." Goose said, tossing the magazine to the floor again. Krieg went to pick it up himself, looking at it.

"Not even the best issue, don't know why you'd want to keep it." Goose chuckled. Krieg continued to look at it, "What're you thinking doc?" Krieg looked at him and then went to Ramsay's desk, opening each drawer until he found the jackpot.

Six issues, all stacked on one another, half naked chicks on the cover of every one of them. Krieg looked at Goose, an odd sense of ponder on his face.

"So what? The guy likes his nudie mags, what's the big deal?" Goose said, still moderately confused.

"Exactly what I'm trying to prove here. We've had dozens of bitten survivors come through here correct? All beyond our saving capacity, but they didn't turn nearly as quickly as Ramsay. Think of who they were. Who was the last one our soldiers had to quarantine and dispose of?"

"That girl and her dad. Dad had a neck bite, wasn't bleeding but it definitely festered."

"And how long did he say he had it?"

"Two weeks, allegedly though doc, how can you prove it when you didn't see it firsthand?"

"Goose, I'm a scientist, I prove things with even only a few variables. Ramsay was in that coolant room for a mere few seconds. I told the idiot to keep away from the samples but he couldn't help scratch his eye or pick his nose or whatever the hell he did to get this shit on him. That's four, maybe five seconds at the most when Ramsay was exposed that Shadow-1 took him over."

Goose rubbed his scalp, "Let me get this straight, you think that Shadow-1 infected Ramsay quicker because he's a pervert?"

Krieg just looked at him, wide eyed, "I can't guarantee that's the answer, but it's the best one I've got. Ramsay's impurity got him killed, crazy theory but it's worth looking into."

Goose stepped away and looked down, his eyes wandered around the office, until they laid eyes on Ramsay's porn stash, sitting on the desk for all eyes to see.

"So who's still bitten that's on the base?" Goose asked.

"As far as I know, the kid from the plane wreck group was the only one bitten. Victor and everyone else claims he's had that bite for five months..."

"No change?"

"None until they escaped from Kappa. Victor claims he passed out before they left. He's got a strong will to live, but he's weak. I had him and Victor put in the same room so I can analyze their blood. For all we know, Victor's infection could be a carrier for Shadow-1."

"I highly doubt that Krieg." Goose said, "His infection's spreading because he has a shard of the Corazon in his finger."

Krieg was wide eyed once more, "How?"

"He says someone on the inside cut off a piece of it when they were in San Lorenzo. If he's right, we need to get it out of him immediately."

"Why would we go to such lengths to save his life?" Krieg asked, "Let that ghost glass rot in his skin for all I care."

"Cause he believes the Corazon is connected to Shadow-1, he thinks it's a cure." Goose said. Krieg was bewildered. He sighed heavily and looked away for a second, then he looked back at Goose.

"Curse my man of science perspective, let's go find out..."

When they arrived at the door to the room in which Victor and Charlie were kept, they heard a raucous. No one else was around save for a technician walking away from their location. Goose was puzzled by the commotion when he immediately opened the door.

Blankets were tossed on the floor, a thick green stain painted the sheets. The bed that Charlie lay on was knocked over. Charlie himself was pressing Victor up against the wall. Victor's eyes were wide, and his forehead sweated with fear. Charlie's back was turned to the duo as they just watched Victor struggle with him.

"Victor!" Krieg called out of panic. Victor looked at them, Charlie's hands gripping him tightly. Charlie whipped his own head around, his eyes glowed the same green color as Ramsay's after he was infected. He snarled and green goo seeped down his lips. He snarled that same animalistic snarl the infected uttered when they spotted prey. Goose immediately whipped out his pistol, hesitant that he could hit Victor.

"No! Don't shoot!" Victor called. Goose just stood there, oblivious to Victor's order.

"General, don't kill him!" Victor said as Charlie continued to fight him, trying to chew a piece off his arm. Victor, being a grown man, was strong enough to hold him at bay. Quickly he whipped him around, and pinned him against the wall.

"Get me some restraints, a leather belt, something!" Victor called.

"Why would we do that, he's infected Victor!" Krieg said.

Victor turned to them, "Because I can save him!"

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To Be Continued.


	26. Memory

_The chill from being so high on a rooftop tingled Arnold's spine. The wind whipped through his hair. The feeling of black leather at his cheek and neck felt oddly arousing as pink lips pressed against his. His eyes were wide as he stared blankly into two eyelids in front of him. They were closed but slightly twitching. It was Helga holding his head and pressing her lips against his. He felt barely amorous about the situation as it happened so fast. Helga's words stuck in his brain as she kissed him, "Oh come here you big lug!" and reeled his head into hers. For a second, Arnold forgot about his task of saving his neighborhood and for a moment, felt personally happy..._ The alarm blared loudly into his ears as Arnold woke from his deep slumber. The hollowness of the hangar almost amplified the noise throughout as refugees all around him were stirred from their sleep. From the small entrance on the other side erupted two soldiers, frantically looking left to right till one of them locked eyes with Arnold and sprinted in his direction. "You have to come with us." He said when he arrived at Arnold's sleeping grounds, Helga sat up next to him, also disturbed from the noise. "What's going on?" Arnold asked. "Your friend is in trouble." The soldier replied...

.

 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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 _Memory_

Arnold was frantic the second he laid eyes on Charlie, his infected body squirming and turning as he struggled to break free from his restraints. Victor stood by, in a newly cleansed lab coat, his hair less mangled and persona much more stout. He wrote on a clipboard as Krieg stood by, pressing keys on a board causing them to show up in green lettering on the monitor in front of him.

"What the hell did you do to him?!" Arnold asked Victor out of anger. He was mad at him for everything else, this couldn't prevent him from venting his heartache over losing a friend.

"Krieg, if you'd please." Victor said. His hand still twitched. Krieg approached Arnold whom was being held back by the soldiers whom delivered him.

"Son, you need to stay back, we're working on him as we speak." Krieg said.

"But he was fine!" Arnold was choking on his words, "You let him die!" He cried. Victor set his clipboard down on the table in irritation.

"Let him go boys." Victor ordered. The soldiers immediately released their grip and Arnold charged at Victor, ready to throw punches.

His fury was his weakness as Victor dominated him, flipping him onto the ground, and pressed his knee on Arnold's chest as he struggled. The more Arnold strained, the stronger Victor's grip was on him.

Victor leaned in and whispered, almost snarling, "I know you hate me Arnold. I know I've done terrible things. But now you have to trust me, I'm going to make this right."

"I'll never trust you...you let Charlie turn, you're just using him for more of your experiments."

Victor grew a smug look, and smirked a little, "In a way yes, but this is different. See this?" He held up his thumb, the greenish glow continued to emit from his finger, the veins around it were thicker and more purple as ever. Arnold stared at it, his eyes in amazement; the purplish color, the hue of the green glow.

A flood of memories began to flow through his brain, memories he thought he hadn't recorded but seeing that glow gave him the access again. He remembered the sword that cut his leg when he was captured in the jungle, he remembered who the hand belonged to that cut him, the tall dark shadowed man with silver eyes. A foe he thought he had forgotten and repressed from his memory, the pirate they called La Sombre, the Shadow...

"Arnold...Arnold!" he heard his father call. Miles had come into the room and saw in horror as his son was pinned down, helpless. Goose drifted towards them, ready to pry Victor off of Arnold. Charlie's growls only became more sinister as he continued to struggle with his restraints.

Arnold calmed down and Victor let him up. "Arnold, I know you're angry, I want this man dead as much as you do." Goose spoke up.

"Appreciate the honesty Colonel." Victor said sarcastically.

"But now is not the time to grief and let your emotions get the best of you." Goose added.

Miles approached his son and placed a hand on his shoulder, "We need you focused, we need you to help us. We need your power."

Arnold looked at his father, bewildered, "What?"

"Remember when you told me on the plane, how you felt Thaddeus' intentions, you knew he was going to attack before it ever happened. And before, you told me how you found Charlie and Helga. The images in your head?"

Arnold wanted to forget.

"Here's our proposal Arnold," Krieg chimed in, "We believe your mental ability can help us cure Charlie here."

Arnold wiped the tears from his eyes, "How? He's puking blood and pus, and you're telling me we can save him?"

"Arnold do you even realize what we're up against?" Victor said.

Arnold choked and sputtered, "I figured some extreme case of rabies. The infected we fought off were violent, fast, and just wanted to eat what was in front of them."

"On the surface yes. But after tests, we've found that Shadow-1 particles, after taking over the original cells, don't exactly destroy them, but more act as an inhibitor. Shadow-1 is able to block positive emotion, while it acts as a booster for negative emotions, the strongest being violence and aggression. We found the same results on lab rats. Therefore infected people aren't exactly lost in their infection, but more being controlled by it." Krieg explained.

"This is bullshit..." Arnold said as he walked away, "My friend is dead and you are trying to manipulate me into thinking that can be changed!" His fury intensified.

"It's theoretical, actually." Victor said calmly, knowing his snide remarks were being ignored.

"Arnold!" Miles called to him. Arnold turned back around, "You want to make this right? You can. You've been through so much, you blame yourself for Jamie's death, you thought you could've stopped it, that destroyed your faith, I get it. But if you just give us this one chance, we can make this right...Think about your friends."

"I don't have friends dad..." Arnold said. Miles just looked at him, a mix of awe and disappointment on his face, "I have family."

With that, Arnold approached the infected Charlie and took a deep breath, "Okay, what do you need me to do?" He asked. Krieg cleared his throat.

"I'll try to speak in layman's terms, but basically, we're going to use Victor's infected blood from the shard embedded in his thumb and transfuse it into Charlie's system. We think that since this virus has inhibiting factors, we want to see if you can tap into Charlie's brain and communicate with him." Krieg said.

"He's nothing but a savage killer now, what makes you think I can talk to him."

"Like I said, Charlie's not dead, he's just changed. He's still in there, and we want to see if you can tap into his subconscious, coax him out of wherever he's hiding."

"I can predict the future doc, I can't talk to others in my head."

"Try Arnold, it's the best option we've got." Victor said, placing his hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"You've known Charlie since you were a kid Arnold, you know him best out of all of us." Miles said. Arnold nodded and approached Charlie. He shut his eyes, attempting to "activate" his ability again.

 _Charlie,_ Arnold thought, _Charlie can you hear me?_ He continued to speak. He shut his eyes tighter. Charlie's snarls distracted him. The fear was strong in him but he couldn't say a word. He had to think it. _Charlie are you in there? Please say something_. Nothing but growls continued to sputter from Charlie's lips.

"Well?" Victor said.

"Does it look like something's happening?" Arnold said, irritably.

"We'll have to try harder. Maybe physical contact." Victor replied.

"What?!" Miles said, clearly disagreeing with Victor's suggestion.

"Get a muzzle for the kid, and get Arnold some gloves." Victor ordered. Krieg went to a set of drawers and pulled out a pair of latex gloves as well as a brown leather strap. With some effort, he got Charlie to bite down on the strap, while he proceeded to tie it around Charlie's head. During which, Arnold put the gloves on.

"Okay Arnold. Right on the forehead, give it a shot." Victor said.

Arnold approached him again. He lifted his hands, underneath the gloves they were already sweating. He placed them on Charlie's forehead as Charlie continued to struggle, still trying to bite with the strap impeding his teeth.

Arnold could feel the sliminess of the pus eroding from Charlie's pores. He shut his eyes and tried again. _Charlie, Charlie can you hear me. Please, the doctors want to help you. I know you're in there somewhere._ Suddenly, Charlie twitched, in a way that was not normal for infected behavior. Arnold opened his eyes and saw Victor was now sitting in a chair next to Charlie on the opposite end. Krieg had set up an IV that ran from Victor's arm into Charlie's neck.

"Keep going Arnold, we're getting sporadic activity in the brain." Arnold nodded and continued his procedure.

 _Charlie..._ Arnold thought of something, _Chocolate boy...remember how I helped you quit? I tried everything, but I didn't give up on you. Even after I found out it was only a bet that you could go without chocolate for a couple months...I knew you had it in you to quit. I miss you Chocolate boy...I miss Charlie...I miss you like you were my brother._ _Charlie, say something..._

 _Arn..._ That wasn't Arnold talking, he realized... _Arnol..Arnold?_

Just then, a wave of pain shot through Arnold's body, he struggled to keep his balance. Miles was there to support him. Arnold kept his hands on Charlie's forehead.

 _Charlie?_ Arnold said in his mind. All of a sudden, a mental image of a large grid appeared in Arnold's mind. Waves of colors spun around him like the Northern lights. They spun around and around, passing through a projected image of Arnold himself. He looked around his surroundings and realized this wasn't real. Just then, Charlie appeared in front of him.

"Arnold? How the hell...How are you talking to me?"

"I'm speaking to you in my head. How can you respond back?"

"I...I don't know? Ever since I got bit, I was able to reach out more with my head. I could read things...in other people's heads."

"That...why didn't you say something Charlie?"

"We were in the midst of an attack at Kappa. You think I was willing to sit everyone down and drop this bomb that I can all of a sudden read minds?"

"Charlie, you weren't the only one! I was able to find you and Helga, when Sid kidnapped you. I could trace your path. On the plane, I was able to read Curly and tried stopping him from retaking the plane. Gerald...Gerald can freaking burn things just with his hands! And..." Arnold began to think. This projected image of Charlie approached him.

"What? What is it?" Charlie asked. Arnold looked at him.

"Ten years ago, when we went to San Lorenzo...that map I had. We used it to find my parents, and the Corazon, in that temple. There were six of us down there..."

"So?"

"So...you were there. I was there. So was Helga, and Gerald...and Sid. We all went down into that basement, and the Corazon was there..."

The memories came like a tidal wave to both Charlie and Arnold, all of a sudden the colorful area around them transformed into the mossy stone and greenish hue of the San Lorenzo jungle, trudging down the steep steps of the cobblestone temple in front of them. Charlie and Arnold could see themselves walking down, with Helga, Sid, and Gerald not far behind them. They watched the memory unfold like a movie.

Gerald had a smirking look on his face, winking at Young Arnold any time he looked back at him. Young Arnold just ignored it while any time Helga looked at Gerald, she gave him a look of lust to pound his face in.

Reminiscing-Arnold could only blush as he realized this was after Gerald and Sid caught him kissing Helga next to a tree. Charlie and Arnold could hear their younger selves talking.

 _"What the criminy are you doing taking us here, football head?!" Helga asked._

 _Young Arnold didn't reply._

 _"Yeah, there was a big radish patch just outside, I wanna go back and get some!" Young Charlie said as he turned to run the opposite direction. Gerald caught him._

 _"Hold on now son, you do realize there are psychopathic pirates out there just waiting to kill us right? If Arnold knows what's best, this is the safest place for us right now."_

 _"Yeah, if there weren't so many bugs, this place is gross!" Sid called._

 _"Guys, come on. A little adventure never hurt anyone. But Gerald's right. Just stay quiet, and we shouldn't be found down here."_

Reminscing-Arnold started to think how could he remember _six_ people, then he remembered what came next...

 _A man suddenly burst from the shadows behind them, "Bzzt, wrong! Gotcha you little brats." The voice called. The man merged from the shadows. Those silvery eyes, his menacing goatee, that silk curved hat on his brow. His crooked fingers holding a revolver aimed directly at the group. The kids all realized it was La Sombra. "Now, what are five little kiddies like you doing in a place like this! I'm curious..."_

 _"Leave them alone Sombra, you have my parents, it's me you want." Young Arnold said._

 _"No...not you. Not just yet, you need to do something for me first." La Sombra said before he cackled, "Now move!" And with that, La Sombra waved his gun, herding the kids further down into the temple._

Just then, the ground began to shake, but not for the kids or La Sombra. The ground quaked for Charlie and Arnold spectating the memory.

"What's going on!" Charlie's voice echoed.

"I don't know...it feels like it's collapsing!" Instead of down right crumbling to pieces, the environment around them retook shape to a different location. There was a green glow all around them, Charlie and Arnold could see six bodies standing in front of where the glow was coming from. It was a small pedestal, with several steps leading up to a small podium like structure. On top was where the green glow was strongest. Arnold and Charlie could see their younger selves again, staring in awe, while La Sombra stood behind them, still pointing his gun at them.

 _"Well? What are you waiting for boy? Take it." La Sombra said. Young Arnold reluctantly approached the green glow. Within it, he could see a small green stone like object. Young Arnold reached out with his hands, and without caution, grasped the object. With a loudly bright spark, colored in the same green hue, the glowing green object sent Young Arnold flying with a cry of pain. Gerald went to him after he landed on the ground. The other kids ran to him while La Sombra just stood with a surprised look on his face._

 _"Arnold!" Gerald called as he placed his hand on Young Arnold's shoulder. The same green spark emitted from Young Arnold's shoulder and Gerald went flying as well. The pain prevented him from seeing where he was landing, and he collided with Helga and Young Charlie who were standing behind him. Sid dove out of the way before Gerald struck him. Everyone felt the same thing. Young Arnold was groaning with the most pain. He clutched his head which appeared to glow the same color as the statue sitting in the middle of the room._

 _"To hell with this!" La Sombra said as he walked past all the kids on the ground, struggling with the pain they each endured. He walked up the pedestal, threw his gun aside and reached out to grab the statue himself. Before he could even touch it, he pulled his hands back in pain, clutching them as if they were burned._

 _He took two more steps back and looked in horror at his hands. First his fingernails fell off, then his fingers disintegrated entirely before his arms melted off his torso and faded into green smoke. He proceeded to walk and emit a blood curdling scream as the green smoke took over his entire body._

The image began to break and distort for Charlie and Arnold who were spectating. Arnold could see his younger self clutching his forehead which glowed a green hue. Gerald flailed his hands around which glowed an infernal red. Young Charlie's body appeared to be wrapped in a bluish color. Helga wasn't surrounded in color, but the loose rocks inside the temple appeared to move with every step she took. Arnold and Charlie watched as La Sombra's body appeared to fade away into green smoke. Just then, La Sombra looked at Arnold, not young Arnold but the spectating Arnold. Arnold in turn could feel fear in his bones. La Sombra was looking directly at him.

His voice echoed, "This isn't over...boy..." La Sombra said to him before his face dissolved and the cloud of green smoke appeared to fly out of the temple.

Just then, Arnold broke out of his mental projection. His eyes had to adjust to the bright light of the infirmary room. He felt he was in a different position from where he began. For one, his hands were drooped to his side. Miles was kneeling to his right, helping him maintain.

"Son, it's okay, you're here. Relax." Miles said as Arnold took panicked breaths. He looked at his father.

"Dad! Where's Charlie! I..."

"See for yourself." Miles replied as he looked ahead. Arnold turned to see Charlie, still strapped and laying against the propped up bed but his face was clear. He wasn't squirming around and struggling. His skin was pasty and white, and his chest barely moving.

Just then he opened his eyes, coughed once, and very slowly turned his head toward Arnold whom looked back at him.

Charlie attempted a smile, and successfully made a weak one show upon his face.

"It worked..." Charlie said, but not out loud. Arnold could hear it in his head. Just then, Charlie closed his eyes and his head dropped again.

"Charlie? Charlie!" Arnold cried as he struggled to get up from the chair. Miles had to hold him back.

"Arnold relax, Charlie's gonna be okay." Miles said.

"His skin is white, he's not okay!" Arnold argued.

"He will be once we get some blood in him." Victor said, he was still in his chair. The IV was unhooked. The purple hue in his veins was gone, and several stitches were around his thumb.

"Victor didn't have the same blood type as Charlie. It may have helped get rid of the infection, but Charlie's still developing anemia." Krieg said.

"So we get someone with the same blood type! He doesn't need that much right?" Arnold replied

Victor for the first time put a look of care and worry on his face. He looked at Krieg.

Krieg in turn looked at Arnold, "He's lost so much blood, he needs more than just a transfusion. He needs the standard amount of red blood cells pumping in his system immediately or he will go into a fatal coma."

"Do we know someone with Charlie's blood type?" Miles asked.

"He's the rarest, AB negative...there's only one other person who tested for AB negative when they arrived." Krieg said.

"Who?" Miles asked. Arnold also looking concerned.

"Your father, Phil Shortman."

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To be continued.


	27. Proposals

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _Proposals_

 _._

His heart wasn't going to take it. Of course, taking blood out of a 90 year old man seemed risky to Krieg and his crew, but they never figured it was inevitably fatal.

Krieg had to break the news to Miles and Arnold privately.

"Your father would be under a lot of strain. We can successfully draw the proper amount of blood from his system, but he won't be able to recreate the cells even if we gave him fluids. He'll eventually fall into a coma and will not wake up."

Miles nodded, realizing it was a risk, "Well okay then. Can't do the operation then, we'll have to help Charlie another way then right?"

"Dad you heard him, Grandpa's the only one with Charlie's blood type." Arnold looked at Krieg, "You're saying it's only a chance that he'll die from it right?"

Krieg sadly shook his head, "There's nothing we can do to save him. His body is surprisingly healthy for a 90 year old man. We pulled up old doctor reports, and theoretically he could have lived to 150; but on the inside, his heart is still not fit for something of this size."

Arnold couldn't understand. It was the first time that not everybody could be happy. It had to be one or the other.

"Does he know? My dad?"

"Phil already authorized the procedure." Krieg said melancholy.

"What?!" Miles asked frantically. Arnold was equally shocked.

"My crew is prepping him in the infirmary as we speak. They're also moving Charlie in, they'll be operating within six hours." Krieg said, "If we don't start soon, Charlie will die."

"Wait doc, you can't just..." Arnold started. Krieg interrupted him.

"He said you guys would react this way...I'll take you to him."

With that, Krieg led the two towards the operating room. Arnold's eyes welled up immediately upon seeing his grandpa on the bed. He looked at him with faded blue eyes.

"Heeey short man! How about these army beds huh? Aren't they soft?" Phil said, laughing.

Miles felt equally saddened.

"There's my boy..." Grandpa said, looking at Miles. He raised his hand and Miles returned by grasping it, "How's my son doing, after heroically defending us in the ravenous deserts of Nevada?" Phil cackled and coughed simultaneously.

"Take it easy Grandpa." Arnold said. With that, he let go of Miles' hand and his own dropped back to his side.

"Oh stop it Arnold, here you are ten years later, surrounded by the undead, and you're still the same worry wart I raised with Pookie." Grandpa looked at Miles and their eyes met. Miles immediately turned away, almost out of shame.

"Arnold." Phil said. Arnold looked directly at him.

"There's something I need you to do for me before this happens." Phil lifted both his hands, they shaked with his old bones and such, and he grasped something around his neck. He unclasped it, put it in one hand and dropped it in Arnold's hand.

Arnold opened it to reveal a golden chain, and attached to it, a silver band with a small diamond clipped on it.

"Your wedding ring...! Dad!" Miles said.

"Oh it's an old thing, don't treat it like it was expensive...at the time." Arnold was amazed at how his grandpa was still able to joke.

"Take it, go to Helga, it's about damn time you guys tie that knot before I go. Bring her back here with everyone else, they're your family and they're my family."

"Grandpa, please, don't say that, it's not over." The tears began to well again in Arnold's eyes as he talked.

"Arnold, listen to me." Phil said, raising his voice, and lifting his hand. Arnold took it in his own hand, "Grieving in this world only gets you killed. Remember what I've told you when you were younger. You gotta keep your eye on the target, focus keeps you alive."

Arnold tried to reply, the fact his own grandfather was telling him these things was unreal, it caused his throat to choke and dry up.

"Arnold, do what your grandfather says, okay?" Miles said. It was the first time he didn't speak to Arnold as a survivor, or a soldier, he was speaking to him as his son. It was the first real moment he and Arnold shared since the chaos began. Arnold nodded and left the room, leaving Miles and Phil alone.

Miles looked at Phil, and sat down in what was previously Arnold's seat.

"You raised him good dad." Miles said as he leaned in to his dad.

"Oh stop guilting yourself like that, you're still the one who brought him into this world, amidst a volcanic eruption, and those raging pirates of all things! When you left, you didn't know you weren't coming back at the time. And look where we are now."

"We should've stayed. Eduardo could've done things on his own."

"My son," Phil started, Miles took his hand, "The day you all came back was the happiest moment of my life. Ten years ago. Ten years-" Phil lost his breath.

"Take it easy pops." Miles said, "You sure you want to do this?"

"I've had it with these crazy kids killing the undead, either that or its this good stuff they're putting in my arm that's making me so tired and I want more." Phil cackled. Miles smiled, a single tear formed inside his eye lid. Phil looked at him.

"Miles, you brought a great talented boy into this world. Make sure he thrives in it." Phil said.

"I will dad, I'm gonna miss you." Miles replied.

"I'll miss you son, I'm so proud of you."

Phil needed rest before the operation. It would commence in two hours. Miles left the room while Krieg's chief assistant gave him some morphine to sleep. Krieg was waiting for him outside the infirmary room.

"Miles, you need to come with me." Krieg said. They walked down the halls back to the soldiers' quarters where Krieg led Miles into the main briefing room.

Goose was waiting for him, along with two corporals whom were guarding Victor sitting in a chair.

"I know it's a hard time for you Miles, it's hard for all of us right now. But we need to start thinking of the next step." Goose said.

"I know." The reality settled in Miles' brain. The grief of him having to break the news to his son and his family, that they had to go back.

"You were aware Victor was in possession of Eduardo's plane, correct?" Goose asked.

"That's right." Miles replied.

"But you claim in your reports upon arriving that you thought Victor was only providing maintenance for the vehicle. You had no idea of his intentions to reenact the Hades Initiative."

"Right?" Miles said, suspicion in his voice wondering why he was being interrogated.

"Just get to the point General, we don't have to play this game." Victor chimed in. Goose rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Were you aware of the tests being executed at FTi Omega approximately three months ago? The samples of the sleeping sickness you had collected during your time in San Lorenzo, Victor authorized their testing which created the first victims of Shadow-1. Did he disclose any of this during your time in FTi Kappa?"

"He said none of it, our chopper went down in the initial evacuation, I remember getting stung with something before we crashed and I had already passed out. When I woke up, he had tied my wife and I to chairs and started experimenting. Victor kept going on about how we were part of a greater plan. They stuck needles in us, threatened our family, and didn't have the guts to even blink." Miles said as he approached Victor, menacingly.

"That's enough Miles." Goose said.

"What would you know Colonel?" Victor said, looking up at Miles, "I was the one doing the science, you just handled the brawn and muscle; and you think you can judge me and my work?"

Miles swung a fist across the table and struck Victor's face. The impact cracked his knuckle and twisted Victor's neck. The soldiers standing next to Victor restrained Miles.

Victor coughed up a spittle of blood, spat it out and began to breath heavily, "I'll wear that like a badge of honor Colonel," He snarled.

"Miles, stand down, that's an order. It's been enough of a blood bath already. You need to hear what Victor has to say." Goose said. Miles still struggled keeping his hands to himself but for the moment, he was calm.

Victor straightened the chair, and sat back down in it, checking his lip.

"I already cured one of those kids, the next one won't be for free." Victor started, "The Corazon shard I had in my thumb is worthless now. When Charlie awoke, we ran blood tests. He is fully cured, Shadow-1 was completely evaporated from his system. When Krieg cut out the shard in my thumb, it appeared the anomaly that gave the shard its eerie glow seemed to fade away. It won't work on anyone else. However, we know for certain, this is a cure. We just..." Victor trailed off.

"We have to get the rest of it..." Miles finished, as he processed the thought in his head.

"Exactly!" Victor replied, pointing both his fingers at Miles out of excitement, "The supernatural essence in the Corazon seems to act as a sort of vaccine, we've had this notion since the fringe team was established in San Lorenzo."

"Does our fringe team still have it?" Miles asked.

"We're not exactly sure." Goose added, "We lost contact with the fringe lab a couple weeks before the outbreak here. Anybody we sent down there, we lost communication with, and any drones we flew over either went down from interference, or were deliberately destroyed by unknown assailants."

"You think someone attacked the base and took control?" Miles asked.

"Like I said, we're not sure. The last few bits of data we got from them in the weeks prior were interesting to say the least. We couldn't analyze much here considering our funding went mostly towards technology and military. FTi isn't well known for pseudoscience, mind you, not since your reports ten years ago which were written off as delusional. It was two weeks after we lost contact with them that Victor sent the authorization for human testing at FTi Omega." Goose looked at Victor, "Which I can most likely _personally_ conclude was your way of taking matters into your own hands, would I be correct?"

Victor looked up at General Goose, "I had theories, but you wouldn't have given me the green light to test them if I shed _any_ light on them."

Miles placed his palms on his face and stretched his cheeks downward in reaction to Victor's response. "Okay, so what do we do." He asked.

"We go down there, we salvage any data they've collected, we bring the Corazon artifact back here. Hopefully we can develop an artificial cure that could render immunity as well as cure the infected of their condition. We won't leave till after winter, but we can spend the time preparing and reestablishing contact with the fringe base down there."

"Who's we exactly..." Miles asked.

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Helga was in the hangar, helping her father clean up their sleeping quarters. Bob took a box from Helga and handed it to Tai whom was released earlier that day along with Mai and Nadine from the infirmary.

Space was minimal and they had to stay organized with their location. Helga heard Arnold coming from several feet away. They locked eyes and Arnold knelt down next to her.

"What is it?" Helga asked, noting Arnold's melancholy.

"Charlie's not doing great, he needs a blood transfusion and Grandpa's the only one with the right blood type." Confusion was the general reaction.

"So Phil will give blood and they'll both be okay, right?" Suzie asked. Arnold shook his head disappointingly.

"That's bullshit! They can't just kill someone to save someone else's life." Bob said, his reluctant love for Phil seeping into his voice.

"He already gave the go ahead." Arnold said, "Grandpa is volunteering for this, there's nothing more we can do."

Gerald and Phoebe who were standing by approached Arnold. He heard them and turned in their direction. Arnold and Gerald locked eyes.

"He wants everyone in there, they're gonna be operating in the next couple hours." Arnold said, announcing to the whole group whom looked at one another. Suzie reached for Bob's hand and gripped it tightly, something Helga noticed.

"If you would rather stay, look over your own space, that's fine, I won't think any differently of you."

"Phil's part of my family, Arnold, he's my family, I won't stop loving him if he is dying." Tai said.

"You can bet I want to be there for him too." Phoebe added. Everyone seemed to step forward, Arnold smiled very bitterly.

"Well head on in if you're wanting to see him. Ask a guard to take you to Phil Shortman's room." Arnold said. One by one everyone proceeded to exit the hangar.

"Helga." Arnold said, stopping her. Bob looked back and Helga beckoned him to continue. Bob smiled, nodded, and left with the others, holding Suzie's hand in his.

"Your father and Mrs. Kokashka seemed to bond quite a bit." Arnold said once they were alone.

"Yeah, dunno what to think of it, she seems a little quieter for Bob than Miriam was..." Helga said, horrifying flashbacks to the day she saw her mother die ran through her head. She tore her beanie from her head out of frustration.

Arnold approached her, and held her arms. "We're not here to think of the past, we're here to move forward." He said. Helga looked at him as he raised his hand and slowly caressed it down her cheek. She put her own hand over his, savoring the warmness it blanketed her face in.

"Why didn't you give up on me? After what I did to you, at the house..." Helga asked, her eyes locking with Arnold's.

"I knew you meant well," Arnold said with a smile, "You did what your gut told you to do, it was for the best."

"I put you and Gerald in danger, with my stupidity, I just wanted Charlie to be free, but I was wrong all along." Helga's voice began to shake.

"And you got him free, and we even got Sid back on our side in the process. There's nothing more to fret about. Charlie needs us now more than ever." Arnold said. Helga nodded, still gripping Arnold's hand which was still flattened against her cheek. Arnold then pulled it away and reached into his shirt pocket.

"There's something that Grandpa asked me to do, and I couldn't think of a better time to do it before we started risking our lives again." Arnold said. Helga was all the more puzzled.

Arnold then took a knee, lifted his hand from his pocket, and fumbled with the object he had taken from the pocket in his hand. He then opened Helga's hand and placed the metallic object in it before closing it.

Helga opened the hand again to reveal the glimmering ring given to Arnold by Phil. Her hand still rested in Arnold's palm. She looked at Arnold, her eyes were already tearing.

"Will you marry me?"

Helga felt like her fourth grade self again. The kiss on the roof at FTi's first headquarters, their tango at the April Fools Day dance, the kiss on the summer beach during the commercial shoot. Helga felt a warmth that did not come from heat, it came from her heart.

Arnold stood, Helga gripped the ring in her hand and leapt at him, pulling him in for an enticing embrace, refusing to let go of his body like it was her damned birth right to hold him so close.

Helga sobbingly replied, a large quivering lipped smile on her face, "Yes, Arnold, yes!" Arnold smiled, smelling the faint aurora of Helga's natural scent in her blonde hair. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the embrace for a few more moments.

Little did they know, Gerald and Phoebe stood by the exit, after everyone else left. They leaned against the wall, Gerald had his arms crossed, and Phoebe pressed her hands against her lips, giggling.

"It's about damned time..." Gerald murmured. Phoebe elbowed him.

"You know you owe me a dinner date now right?" She said. Gerald looked at her in disarray.

"That bet was made six years ago!" He whispered loudly. Phoebe just rolled her eyes and smiled, looking past Arnold and Helga at the metal walls of the hanger, wondering when her moment was going to come.

"Come on, let's go see Grandpa Phil." She said, dragging Gerald out of the room. Miles was waiting outside. Gerald and Phoebe noticed him.

"Real sorry about your father, Mr. Shortman." Phoebe said.

"Yeah, I know how you feel, with my family and all..." Gerald added.

"It's alright guys, go on, he'll be happy to see you two." Miles said as he beckoned towards Helga and Arnold whom were walking their direction.

"Helga, you mind if I talk to my son privately real quick?" He said when the two were in ear range.

"Um, sure Colonel, he's all yours." Helga said. She looked back at Arnold as the two shared a smile. Helga released Arnold's hand and left the hangar, walking past Miles.

Arnold watched until she was out of eye and earshot.

"You okay dad?"

"Yeah Arnold, I'm fine. It's just hard, first your grandmother, and now your grandfather." Miles said.

"We've lost enough, I get it. Have they been conjuring up any plans yet?"

"That's what I need to talk to you about Arnold, 'they' is now 'we'." Miles said. The statement was clear enough for Arnold to react, but confusing enough for him to ask for more.

"Victor's been able to prove the Corazon can cure this thing, whatever has been taking these people over. Unfortunately, we don't have it here, it's still in San Lorenzo. So..."

"So they want to go back." Arnold finished his father's sentence. Miles nodded reluctantly.

"Victor was able to save Charlie with the shard he had embedded in his thumb, he thinks if he had the whole artifact, whatever energy it gives off, it appears to 'scare away' the infection."

"I thought FTi wasn't investing in fringe science anymore, not since your reports since we came back 10 years ago, what changed?" Arnold asked.

"You saw what happened to Charlie right? You were in his head, you spoke to him didn't you." Miles said.

"Yeah but, that can't be the only way."

"It's all we've got right now Arnold, you're gonna have to trust me."

"You were there dad, you told me, you told me how Victor tied you down, tortured you, stuck needles in you and mom, and whoever else he had locked up at Kappa. And now all of a sudden, you're working together to save the world?"

Miles couldn't respond, his mistaken consciousness blocked him from being genuine. He took a breath, placed his hand on Arnold's shoulder, and pulled him in close.

"I made a bad call son. This may very well be my fault. But you can't think that I would deliberately want to cause the hundreds of thousands of deaths that could be occurring right at this moment."

Arnold just looked down, a subtle warmth from his father's hand, feeling comfort and despair simultaneously. He looked up at his father, his eyes showing the same emotions.

"I'm sorry Dad. I never doubted you." Arnold took a deep breath, getting back in touch with reality, "So what's the plan?"

"Ten years ago, you won your class a trip with an award winning essay. You took a plane down to San Lorenzo and there you found me and Mom. We need _everybody_ who was on that plane a decade ago, including you and Helga."

Arnold was surprised.

"Your mom and I are going too. We won't dare let them split us up again. Victor's got some crazy theories that I didn't believe once myself, but seeing everything that I've seen, I gotta believe him."

"Why everybody? Why can't we keep them here where they're safe. I don't want Helga to go through that danger again." Arnold argued.

"She'll be fine. Everybody will be fine..." Miles paused, his next thought was a crazy one, he didn't know whether or not Arnold would believe it.

"What is it dad?" Arnold said, recognizing the puzzling look on his father's face.

"The Green Eyed People..." Miles said. The thought sounded cryptic but understanding at the same time to Arnold. Before he could continue...

"Miles, Arnold." said a voice. They turned to see Krieg standing in the hangar entrance.

"It's time."

.

Phil was washed by comfort with everybody that came through that door. But the moment that Miles entered the room, and introduced Arnold and Helga into the room as an engaged couple, was the moment that Phil was going to take with him for eternity. Arnold looked at his grandfather. Phil looked at his grandson, both smiled. A single tear rivered down Arnold's cheek, his lip trembled.

"I see we've got plenty of witnesses." Goose joked. The whole room laughed.

"Wait, what about a priest!?" Eugene chimed up, a clear utter excitement in his voice from the announcement, "We have to have a priest or reverend to make it official!"

"Calm down Eugene, I'm sure there's someone on post." Miles said.

"We have to start the operation soon Miles, we can't delay or Charlie's condition will be compromised." Krieg said, having to damper the mood.

"I can do it." Said the one person whom no one expected to speak. Everybody looked towards the bed at Phil whom had his hand raised.

"Dad, you're not a minister? I never saw you practice." Miles exclaimed.

"Oh you missed a lot more than I anticipated when you were gone. Remember the 81-curse?"

"Yeah, every man in our family hasn't lived past 81."

"You got it wrong sonny-boy, it was 91, and look where I'm at now you little rascal." Phil said, cackling, "Anyway I got some lessons from a preacher and he had me ordained after my little fiasco at 81, freaking out I was gonna die and all."

Miles let out a heartwarming smile.

"Come over here you kiddies, let me wed ya." Phil said, cackling once more. Arnold and Helga walked through the crowd till they stood over Phil's bed.

"My brain's a bit fuzzy thanks to all those damned zombies, but I think I can get this right. Okay." Phil adjusted on his bed, "Who gives this woman to this man in marriage?" Phil asked. Silence for several minutes. Phil looked past the foot of his bed where Bob was looking at the ceiling, Suzie next to him.

"I said which bumbling baffoon with a last name PATAKI, gives this woman to be wed?!" Phil said, his nasally raspy voice much louder. Suzie elbowed Bob quite aggressively which shocked him into place.

"Ehhum, me, Big Bog Pataki. Sorry." Bob said, embarassingly. Frantically he brushed off the front of his shirt and went to grab the open hand of his daughter.

"Sheesh, got worse potatoes in your ears than I do..." Phil said, "Alright, dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today to witness the bonding of two young souls in love, Helga Pataki, and Arnold Shortman (especially an extremely handsome young soul I might add)." Phil cackled, Arnold blushed and Helga elbowed him, winking.

"Eh um, seemed to lose my place, Arnold you got that ring on ya?" Phil said.

"Yes Grandpa."

"Good, put it on her finger." Phil said. Arnold turned to Helga, took the ring from his pocket, and placed it on Helga's ring finger, a perfect fit.

"Now Arnold, do you take Helga Pataki as your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, whatever challenges you may face, till death do you part." Phil said.

Arnold looked at Helga for a moment, then he said, "I do." Phil smiled wider this time.

"And do you Helga take-"

"Yeah yeah gramps, I take this handsome devil as my husband, can we get to the kissing?" Helga asked, her girlish nerves from elementary school came back to her.

Phil coughed, "Sheesh, guess you're not a guy after all..."

"Watch it pops." Helga said, jokingly. It took all her effort to keep the sobbing at bay. Phil _was_ always nice to her.

"Well then, by the power invested in me, and by all these great people in this room, whom have always been like my family the last decade, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Helga didn't hesitate, her lips smacked onto Arnold's faster than a cheetah on its prey, her arms wrapped around his head like a parasite. It was the longest kiss of their lives. The room roared with clapping. The claps echoed down the halls, whoops of joy. Guards posted at the nearest corners were confused by the noise.

Phil watched, from his laid down position, the clapping, laughter, and whoops for joy, watching these two bond in matrimony, surrounded by loved ones amidst a crisis. He smiled.

"'Atta boy Arnold...atta boy..."Phil said as the drugs began to take their toll on him, anesthesia taking him under, his eyelids grew heavy and he succumbed to a deep dark sleep. Arnold noticed his grandpa, his head drooping to the side.

"Grandpa? Grandpa!" He said, shaking his body violently.

"Clear the room guys, we need to start operating _NOW!_ Charlie is going into cardiac arrest!" Krieg said, busting into the room with his small group of doctors, and a small paddock with Charlie's body laying on top.

And like that...the mood changed...and the despair returned to everyone.

Krieg couldn't have taken Arnold away by himself, he would've needed a crowbar. Arnold's screams could be heard far into the desert as he felt like his pain has pinned him to the floor, stabbing him constantly in the back with a jagged knife.

General Goose started to file everyone out into the hallway. Tai, Mai, and Nadine held each other closely, Bob and Suzie fell against the wall, Suzie began to bawl into Bob's shoulder as he held her tightly. Last came Miles and Stella, dragging a teary eyed Arnold who fought hopelessly to see his grandpa one more time, before Krieg had to shut the door, with his crew, and the unconscious Charlie and Phil.

Miles attempted to get Arnold under control, "Arnold, ARNOLD! It's okay. It's okay!" as Arnold continued to push.

" _I needed to say bye! It can't end like this!_ " Arnold continued to push. Miles held him back.

"He got his last wish didn't he? Arnold look at me. SON!" Miles knelt down and gripped Arnold by the two sides of his head, pulling Arnold's forehead against his own. "Grandpa is helping us. We need Charlie for the expedition. I'm gonna miss him just as much, but I'm glad, I'm glad we were able to give him peace. He got to see his grandson get married. He can go happy." Miles said.

Right then, Arnold looked at his father. Stella knelt down next to her husband. Arnold looked at them both, "We're not going back..." His eyes matted with dried tears which moistened as fresh ones poured from his eyes.

A look of shock grew on Miles' face as he looked at his wife then back at his son, his words stunned Miles. Arnold was stubborn but he was usually comparably wise. This was something new. They couldn't worry about his changes now. Winter was coming, and it was going to be a long one.

Arnold looked at his father out of irrational anger before breaking down into his chest. Miles held his head tightly, like a father should. Stella walked over and placed an arm on Miles' shoulder before wrapping him in a hug as well. Helga than approached them, resting her head on Arnold's shoulder as he cried, holding her new husband closely. One by one, the rest of the group joined in. Gerald, Phoebe, Sid, Stinky, Eugene, Harold, Mai, Tai, Nadine, Bob and Suzie, all with tears in their eyes.

Everybody had a reason to grief, everyone lost somebody. But they all knew, that moment when they saw Helga and Arnold as happy as they were; in a world of chaos, that moment gave off a single spark in all their heads. Everyone realized, there was a time for grief, and then there was going to be a time for hope. It was time for the next step.

.

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To Be Continued.

Hey Zombies will begin weekly chapter releases starting Christmas Day (December 25th) - Been hard at work to get this story that I love writing so much and am 100% dedicated to, written. By Christmas, I should have enough material to release for several weeks to come! Give you guys another thing to get amped up for this holiday season ;)


	28. Spring

_The mildewy smell of the hanger made John lose his appetite. The food wasn't very delectable anyway. His father Cody was the first to admit it every time they dined in the hangar. At least the cold nights were over. Winter had come and gone and spring was making its roots. Too bad the flora of the desert stayed the same throughout the last six months while John's family held refuge at FTi Alpha._

 _"John, you need to eat something." Sarah said, sitting across from him at their makeshift table. John couldn't reply, instead scooping the murky stew from his tin can and letting the gooey contents spill from his spoon back into its container. Silence continued to fill their table while the rest of the hangar was filled with talkative voices and bursts of laughter throughout. It was heaven on Earth for all of them, John couldn't comprehend why they were able to count their blessings and his group couldn't, "John!" She called once more. John looked at Sarah this time. Her eyes glistened with dry tears when she hadn't even been able to cry for several weeks. Her emotions were dried up._

 _John decided to continue eating out of pity for her. As he brought the spoon to his mouth, the foul stench of the salt-infected meat reached his nostrils. Before he could consume the spoonful, a hand came swiping in, knocking the spoon from his hands, sending the handful of freshly served stew to the floor. No one was in the trajectory, but people behind them turned, out of curiosity to see what the noise was._

 _"You don't have to listen to her, John." Said the man sitting next to him, John turned from Sarah's direction who looked at the man with a glaring look of disappointment._

 _John's pity for Sarah started to spread towards the man as well, Cody._

 _"Not like we deserve to eat this shit." Cody mumbled. John and Sarah looked at him in confusion, as well as fright, knowing this was a regular thing for him to be eccentric._

 _"Remember those kids mingling with the general, wandering around like they own the place? They've got nice cozy beds just down the street." Cody had the fakest smile on the planet growing on his face as he spoke, "They probably get five star meals and masseuses to tend to their growing pains. While we sit here and continue to eat shit like dogs." His nostrils flared._

 _"You know when we came here, they seemed so welcome. That general, whatisname? Goose? Made me think we had a chance here. Wasn't that a crock of shit." Cody said, menacingly shaking his head.  
_

 _John and Sarah just looked at him, Sarah's disappointment and John's growing irritation beamed towards him._

 _"I shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have made you come here, not like Vegas was any better but still...We would've been fine trekking towards California or something, but I decided to stop...like an idiot."  
_

 _"Cody, we're doing fine! We're still alive right?" Cody just glared at Sarah.  
_

 _"Then you're just like the rest, if you can't accept we deserve better after the shit...he put us through." Cod replied. Sarah and John felt chills, knowing whom he was referring to.  
_

 _"Think it's time this place went under new management." Cody proposed. Sarah's emotions turned to fear while John started to raise his eyebrows in agreement._

 _"This isn't Vegas, Cody. These people are not like Malcolm's people." Sarah argued.  
_

 _Without missing a beat, Cody turned towards Sarah, "Don't...you ever...say his name..." He said._

 _"It's bad enough we only get 3 ration cards a day to split amongst us, but to get shit like this?" Cody said, taking his own container of slop and turning it upside down. The juices and chunks of meat spilled onto the table, still steaming from their production. The noise caught people's attention around him only for a second._

 _"I've had it too." John chimed in. Sarah looked in shock, "I'm done being treated like a dog while the rest lives in luxury, not after all we've been through." Sarah's eyes began to shake as she darted between the two, realizing they were becoming something she had worried they would become during the entire winter, like someone they all knew and chose to forget. John leaned in close to Cody.  
_

 _"What'd you have in mind?"_

.

 _ **Hey Zombies**_

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.

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 _Spring_

"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door." Helga Shortman read aloud from a book, "What a suggestion football head! If that isn't the most interesting and most boring story I've ever read...I could've trimmed my nails in the time it took to read this." She said towards the open bathroom door where Arnold stood. The humming buzz of a razor drug up and down as Arnold trimmed his beard. The hairs from his cheek and neck fluttered into the sink at his waist.

"It's the shortest story ever written, that's gotta count for _something_ amazing." Arnold called as he pulled his switchblade from his pocket to cut the shorter hairs, "At two sentences long it still speaks for something."

"Well for a book called _Western Anth-an-Anthologies of Science Fiction and Horror Stories_ I expected something a bit more my taste. I mean, Arnold I can't even pronounce half the words on the front cover. Seriously, _The Walking Dead_ is more gutsy than this, literally!" Helga said sarcastically as she placed it next to her on the bed.

Just then, Arnold walked out of the bathroom, a freshly trimmed goatee on his face. The brown hairs traced under his nose and wrapped around the tip of his lips and down to his chin. Helga admired Arnold's new look, and then she admired the fact he was completely shirtless. His thin body and shimmering abs sparkled in Helga's eyes.

Arnold could tell what she was thinking by the newly formed blushes forming on her cheeks and how her legs moved across the bed sheets in a suggestive manner. She could've jumped him right then and there if he wasn't wearing pants already. Too much effort to undo the belt on her part.

"Well? What do you think, should I keep it?" Arnold asked.

"Whatever you want, Heisenberg." Helga said with a minor smirk.

"What happened to 'football head'?" Arnold said as he approached the bed.

"I think you know who's going to be the _new_ football head." Helga said as she patted her stomach, slightly rounder in shape. Arnold knelt down and stuck a kiss right on her belly button. He looked up at Helga, her face glistening.

"I love you." He said, towering over her, leaning his arms against the bed on both sides of her head. He leaned in and pecked her on the lips.

"Love you too." Helga responded, biting her lip bashfully after they broke contact.

"I'll be at training. Get someone on the P.A. for me if you need anything." Arnold said as he donned a long sleeve green shirt, rolled the sleeves up and put a khaki jacket over it.

Arnold headed right out the door. The warm dewey scent of morning enwrapped Arnold's face, welcoming him to the outdoors.

"Hey there Walter White! Liking the new look!" said a nasally hick voice from below. Arnold leaned over the balcony to see Stinky, Harold and Eugene standing in the vacant parking lot, surrounded by decrepit cars and torched vehicle wreckage.

Arnold smiled at the sight of his friends and dashed across the balcony to the stairs which led to the first floor rooms of the motel. "Hey guys! Off to training?"

"Of course! I've still got some winter weight to lose." Harold joked with a smile.

"You know me...anything to counter my life's luck would be a big help." Eugene chimed in.

"Could be worse Eugene, remember when we took this motel a couple months ago?" Arnold added as they walked towards the corner of the motel.

"True, did we really lose six people that day?"

"Seven." Harold corrected Eugene, melancholic about his response.

"I still have nightmares about Jessica...she was really cute." Stinky said, his eyes started to droop.

"That's why we're training now guys, these people need to know how to protect themselves." Arnold said, gesturing to the rooms behind them, all housing survivors that FTi Alpha had let in over the past seven months since Arnold and his group arrived. Alpha troops expanded out to Denison, the city five miles outside of the base, starting with the motel which was liberated a couple months ago when space at Alpha started running low. Around it was a security fence emplaced by military soldiers at Alpha, about seven feet high and wrapped the entire motel for a means of immediate safety. At the front of the gate, near its entrance, four soldiers stood guard, changing shifts every 6 hours, their tents were put up close to the entrance as well as a truck that rested beside the tent.

Past the fence, was the parkway that lead out of the town, headed to Alpha, merely a speck several miles east. Arnold and his group watched several weakened infected clawing at the fence as they turned the corner towards the recreational yard.

"How's your guys' room holding up?" Arnold asked as they walked onto the court. Harold went for a box that sat against the building, locked up. He opened it to reveal practice weapons and makeshift safety gear.

"No room service or chocolate on my pillow, but better to be in here than out there." Stinky replied as he prepared to stretch. As they spoke, more people started coming around the corner, other survivors, all dressed in worn out t-shirts or jackets. A couple kids came along but they were in too much of a cluster to determine who the kids' parents were, that is if they were still with them.

"Just glad we were able to clear this motel in time before winter struck. Alpha was getting crammed" Eugene said.

"You've been saying that all winter Eugene, how glad or thankful can you get?" Harold asked, as he laid out the contents of the crate for people to pick up.

"Till the day I die Harold." Eugene replied, his typical response to getting called out for his idiosyncrasies. Stinky gave him a nod of approval.

"Can't believe it's been seven months." Harold added.

"And we're stronger than we've ever been. No one's gonna say otherwise." Arnold replied.

Stinky then pointed straight ahead at the fence leading out to the street, "I would say those fellers disagree with ya." He said, pointing at several infected sluggishly walking up to the fence and clawing away at it, prying to get in. The guard on duty approached the fence, stabbing each of them with a clean shot from his bayonet. As they dropped to the floor, blackish slop pouring out of their head wounds, the guard slid his knife back into his leg holster and returned to his post.

"They move so slow now." Harold said.

"Must be starving after not getting anything during the winter. They're getting weaker." Stinky chimed in.

"Doesn't mean we don't have to fight them. Let's get going." Arnold said as he walked in front of the group to begin their combat training.

.

The atmosphere at FTi Alpha couldn't have been more uppity. With refugees coming in during the winter months, Alpha had more working hands than they knew what to do with. Most helped with survival operations, living space however was low, a large sum of the new refugees stayed in the hangar. The only issue they had was supplies...

In the science lab, Miles and Stella took turns examining the broken Corazon shard they used to cure Charlie, while Krieg and Victor looked over paperwork on their clipboards, pens scrawling up and down.

Miles sported a goatee of his own and Victor chose to keep his scruff from his imprisoned days.

Victor sat at a desk, writing in his journal. The date "April 12, 2013" was scrawled next to more text and what looked like Chinese algebra to everybody else but Victor. The findings were very few since Charlie was cured. Not much could be done during the winter months which mostly consisted of holding the fort and dry supply runs.

"Have you talked to your son yet?" Victor asked. Miles and Stella looked at each other, thinking of their response. Miles turned towards Victor than back towards his microscope.

"Can't say I have. It's been a hard time for him, what with his kid on the way." He replied.

"Last I checked, you were the ones talking about the Green Eyed people being 'not trusting' and not willing to give up their artifact. Shouldn't we start planning how the hell we're gonna _get_ there?" Victor argued.

"Don't push it. We're low on supplies as it is, what with almost a hundred mouths to feed. And we still can't send squads to Vegas, the gang activity is too high. Plus, we can't just fly down there expecting an easy trip. We agreed to start planning in May once the warm temperatures settle in, remember?" Stella chimed in, siding with her husband of course.

"Things change you know, I'm just trying to get us back on schedule." Victor refuted.

"I'll talk to Goose before I bring it up to my son. In the mean time, you need to worry first about getting the airfield secure for our flight down there."

"We've had zero contact for months Miles, do you honestly expect me to pull an airfield out of my ass and plaster it in the middle of the jungle?"

"Considering everything else you've hid in your ass for the past _year?_ I'm sure you'll figure it out." Miles said with a smile as he returned to the microscope.

.

.

.

Stinky went in for the undercut but Arnold blocked it with a grip of his wrist. Stinky was distracted by the arm work he didn't see Arnold's leg sweeping under and knocking him to the ground. Arnold immediately went for his throat with the dull knife and Stinky tapped the asphalt. "Yield Arnold yield!...Yeesh!" Stinky cried out.

Arnold smirked and helped Stinky to his feet. Everybody else was practicing the same thing, "Keep all possibilities open when attacking your opponent Stinky." He said patting his shoulder out of approval. Arnold began to stroll through the other sparring groups.

"Remember that the infected are not the only ones out there! You find yourself a gold mine of canned food, someone's already camped outside ready to jump you or even worse have a sniper scope fixed right on your head. Adapt to the situation, if they're ranged, you go ranged with your weapon, if they get in close, always choose melee, you'll make less noise and you'll incapacitate your opponent if you pay attention!"Arnold said as he approached Charlie whom was practicing against Eugene with his fist work. Arnold gripped Charlie's elbows and adjusted them, "Learn to be loose in close quarter combat, you'll never get an open shot if you don't breath and sharpen your eyesight. You gotta move like water."

Charlie nodded with a smile. Arnold looked back towards where Stinky was and saw he wasn't there anymore. Over by the motel wall, he saw Stinky slumped against it, sitting on the cold dewey asphalt, his head resting in his arms. Arnold approached him and sat down with him.

"What's going on Stinks?" He asked. Stinky gave no response. Arnold looked at the practicing survivors then back at him. They were silent for a minute.

"Yknow I still miss my grandpa right? Not a day goes by that I think about his sacrifice to save our friend Charlie." Arnold said, breaking the silence.

"It's just..." Stinky choked, holding back his sobs, "I miss my parents...I don't even know where they are, if they even know to head this way or if they're even alive..."

Arnold had no reply, Stinky never was one to show raw emotion but this was no surprise to him. It has been almost a year since the outbreak.

"I loved Jessica, you saw that, we were happy together and then...then she just had to trip on that body-" Stinky continued to choke on his words.

"Hey hey, Stinks," Arnold said, taking Stinky into his arms, "We're gonna find your parents buddy, they're out there and they're thinking about you. Goose's men are still broadcasting to all eastern radio stations, they _have_ to be listening." Arnold continued, as he held Stinky like a child. Stinky sat back up after he calmed down a little.

"It's just," He sniffed, "We had so many good times, you, me, everyone in Hillwood, then we're thrown into this pit of chaos and it's like a tainted sandwich covered in delicious ketchup..." Arnold chuckled at Stinky's returned sense of humor. He stood up and helped Stinky to his feet. Arnold put both hands on Stinky's shoulders.

"Stinky, I'm sorry about Jessica and I'm sorry about your parents. But I promise you, we will find them. When have I been wrong?" Arnold refuted. Stinky smiled and nodded.

Just then, a patrol soldier approached the training group, "Arnold! Your dad just radioed me, he wants you down at Alpha soon, gather your gear and I'll take you down there in the truck."

"I'll be right there sir." Arnold replied. He and Stinky shared one more positive glance before he left. Gerald watched as his best friend hopped up the stairs to his motel room. The sight distracted him from the kid he was practicing with about to go in for a cut maneuver. Before he knew it, Gerald was on the ground, Riley with a knife at his throat.

"Whatsa matter Gerald? Not in the mood for cutting bandit throats today?" Riley chided. Gerald shoved him off.

"Not like that Riley, we're not trying to kill, we redirect." Gerald said to him as he shoveled Riley off him, standing him upright.

"The hell does that mean?" Riley exclaimed, with his fresh seventeen-year-old ignorance shining bright in his words.

"Do you even listen to what Arnold says? The living and the dead are our enemies, but that doesn't mean we don't try to reason either of them. An infected dude comes at you, you have to kill it, it's an animal, not a person anymore. But you find yourself in front of a bandit with a knife, you redirect him. Try to get him on your side. Don't ever choose to kill first."

"Whatever," Riley responded, "I'd tear out his jugular before he gets a shot." He grinned slyly.

"Whatever you say kid, now let me see your iron bar counter defense."

.

Arnold entered his hotel room, "Practice over so soon?" Helga asked, still laying in bed reading her Christmas gift from Arnold.

"Dad needs me at Alpha, I gotta go." Arnold said as he grabbed his black magnum 6 inch barrel revolver from a dresser drawer. He popped out the cylinder and loaded it with six shimmering bullets. He clicked the cylinder back in and checked the safety before he slid it into his holster on his belt. "Get some rest will you?" Arnold said with a smile as he approached his wife and kissed her delicately on the lips.

"Hurry back soon." Helga grinned. Arnold approached the door, "Wait Arnold," Helga said, Arnold stopped as he gripped the door knob, "I have a name." She said, smiling as she rubbed the basketball lump in her belly.

"Just one name?" Arnold said playfully.

"I think it's gonna be a boy." She replied. Arnold smiled, "We'll talk tonight, I have to go now." As he opened and shut the door. Helga sighed as she rested her hands behind her head and shut her eyes.

Five minutes later she popped them open suddenly, "Oh shit." She exclaimed as she leaned over to look at the night dresser. On it was Arnold's walkie talkie, pure black with a thick antennae, "He forgot his radio!" Helga said to herself as she staggered to her feet, holding the weight of her impregnated stomach in her arms as she hobbled over to the door and burst it open. The truck across the way was gone, only three soldiers were left playing cards at the table. Helga drooped her head in disappointment.

" _He'll be back soon."_ She thought to herself.

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.

.

"Okay okay...what do you mean the tissue's getting thicker." Goose asked in major confusion as he flailed his arms in front of Krieg.

"I'm saying that infected tissue, over time begins to develop a thick mucous shell, it becomes more toxic and possibly creates more of a means to infect fresh hosts." Krieg said, Goose was still in awe. "Come here, look at this." Krieg said as Goose followed him to his work station which had three tubs of fluid and discolored flesh in them.

Krieg pointed to the first, "This is from Bowman, after he got bit in March and we put him down immediately after he turned. It's already developed a mucus that covered the whole exterior of the human flesh."

He then pointed to the second, "This is from an infected that was electrified by the fence perimeter on the south side of the base, I can estimate he was infected for about 6 months, and look at how thick the mucous has developed."

Krieg finally pointed to the third, "This is from Ramsey, I sterilized his body when I killed him and kept him locked in the infirmary. I first developed this theory when I saw how his body was continuing to decay, or rather, improve this texture."

Goose looked in shock, "This is 7 months from initial infection." Krieg said as they both looked at the tissue sample, pure grey color and wrinkly like a rhinocerous' skin, nearly _six inches_ thicker than the first sample.

"We need to get the word out," Goose said, "God knows what a 7 month infection looks like on a full body...have you seen any?" He asked Krieg.

"No reports but I can deduce that the longer someone is infected the less... _human_ they look...and if this thicker skin is an adaptable trait, they may be more volatile and harder to kill." Krieg said solemnly.

"Thank you Doc, I'll be on my way." Goose said. He walked out of the lab and proceeded to the comms room, a 10 minute walk.

When he opened the door, Parks was in a feud with whomever he was speaking to.

"And I'm telling you, we can't afford to make such a trip! The amount of gas it would take to go out that far and refill with what's in the drop would be extremely redundant!" Parks was saying as Goose came into the room.

A crackling voice responded on the other end. "Corporal, I don't have time to argue, I know how this sounds, but the chop was too great for us to make it to the actual drop point. Would you rather have both a care package and a crashed plane at the regular distance? Or just the care package _just a little_ further from the regular drop."

Before Parks could respond, "What's the problem specialist?" Goose asked.

"Fort McNair out in Washington sent us another supply drop, but the plane got caught in a storm and it dropped our shit about 15 miles from Denison."

"So are we retrieving it or what?" Goose said, unaffected by Parks' report.

"Sir, with all due respect, did you not just hear me? We'll have 15 miles of extra distance to travel to get to it."

"And we have a hundred people to feed, with already minimal supplies..." Goose refuted. Just then Miles entered.

"General, Krieg told me you were in here, he mentioned his findings on the tissue samples..."

"Not now Miles, we've got bigger fish to fry, there was an issue with the last supply drop." Goose said, "We need to get moving cuz you'll have to travel a few more miles to retrieve it."

"More like 15..." Parks said. Goose rolled his eyes in reply to Parks' comment.

"So what? Let's send another squad to Vegas instead. Maybe the hostiles there have relocated."

"I already lost nearly _fifteen_ men going into that city, I'm not going anywhere near there again..." Goose said.

"Alright fine, Arnold's on the way down here now he'll want to go retrieve it with his team." Miles replied as he turned away. Before he left the room completely, he turned back.

"Victor's been pestering me about the San Lorenzo trip again, I need to talk to Arnold about it, and soon."

Goose just approached Miles and leaned in to speak quieter, "You honestly don't think I'm letting that psychopath dupe you into going back in the jungle again do you?" Miles looked at him in shock.

"Then what have you been letting him do all winter long? Weren't you the one that authorized him to work in the lab?" Miles whispered loudly.

"Let the hamster spin his wheel, keep him thinking he's being productive..." Goose said with a smirk, "Tell your son I need him and his team on this, I'll have the 801st squadron join them and we'll depart by 1700 before it gets dark." Goose prepared to leave.

"General, maybe we should plan this out more? I mean why not just wait till the next one, McNair sends out drops every other week." Miles said, Goose just turned back.

"We've got dozens of people who are already malnourished and with limited food and supplies to give them, taking Denison clearly didn't help us expand and now everyone staying in that Denison motel is looking more pampered then everyone we got corralled in Hanger B. Not to mention your son and new daughter..."

Miles couldn't rebuttal, Goose had a point.

"We need to get these people more food, who knows when and or if someone's already thinking of revolting..."

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.

.

Sarah had gone to the bathroom, leaving Cody and John sitting at their sleeping area in the hangar.

"Why not just go for the colonel himself, he has a wife doesn't he? Tell him you'll cut her throat if he doesn't get the general to give us more ration cards." John said. Cody just snickered as he sorted the bullets to the pistol he snuck in when his family first arrived at Alpha.

"Too hard to get to, they stay nice and tucked in the most secure part of the base. But that motel," He said, "That piece of aristocratic shit motel where they get all the good stuff is nice and open for the taking, and guess what, Colonel Miles has a son there." Cody said with a grin.

"Doesn't sound right, going after a man's kid, he'd put you down on the spot if he found out." John said to his dad.

"John, you already agreed to help me in a _kidnapping,_ how can you try to be moral with _who_ we're trying to kidnap and ransom." John just raised his eyebrows and sighed with frustration.

"Sometimes I wish you never took me out of Vegas. I'm worse off with you than I ever was helping that psychopath..." John said. Cody just looked at him, gripping the pistol in his hand as his eyes darted between it and John's solemn glare when he saw the murderous vibe his father gave off with his expression, something a bit too familiar from his days surviving in Vegas.

"Say that again, and the colonel's son won't be the only one I put down, Sarah will be next..." Cody snarled. John stayed quiet as his "father" continued to clean his gun.

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.

To Be Continued


	29. Ten Seconds

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _10 Seconds_

"Simple job gentlemen, supply drop just like the rest except we have a bit more ground to cover. Everything within a five mile range of Denison has been scanned by drones so you're going into uncharted territory. From what the drones detected, you will have minimal resistance as far as human encounters, but we can't speak for the infected population. Last we heard, the hordes of infected in Vegas are still roaming the streets and very few have spread out into the Nevada outskirts. Since we are pressing for time; and supplies as minimal as they are in their current state, we cannot wait for the helicopters to return from their reconnaissance mission in the east, we'll have to travel on ground. _Complete discretion_ and caution are required on this mission. Krieg has been researching these new jock mutations and so far the results are not good. We haven't encountered any yet, but I can't guarantee the same for you guys. The 801st squad will take the lead in an armored personnel carrier while Arnold's team will follow in a standard truck that will be used to haul the supplies back here. You're just there for that, retrieving the care package contents and nothing else. We will provide you with proper defense according to your training, proceed to the armory and you will each be provided with a weapon. Then at 1400 you will meet up with the 801st and hit the road. Any questions?...Good, dismissed."

The crowd slowly dispersed, Arnold saw his father waiting by the exit and approached him as everybody else left.

"You didn't tell him yet?" Arnold asked. Miles looked in confusion, "Goose, about my friends and I. Our...abilities."

"You think I _plan_ on telling him? The less he knows about what's going on the better." Miles replied, crossing his arms.

"The less he knows...? Dad are you seriously trusting Victor over Goose?"

"Victor's a snake yes, knowing him, he's ready to tear you and your friends apart to find out what's making those powers of yours tick if you let him, but at least he's innovative in what the hell's going on out there." Arnold was silent, his distrust began to grow.

"Just keep it on the down low, don't give yourselves away, only if you're in a tight spot should you use your foresight and tell Gerald no burning shit with his hands." Miles demanded frugally. Arnold chuckled.

"Will do dad," he said as he prepared to leave.

"Wait, son." Miles stopped him. Arnold turned back, "Victor's been asking again about the trip...have you reconsidered at all?" Arnold's joy melted from his face.

Miles could see Arnold's reaction crystal clear, "We need to re-think what we're doing here. Nothing's gonna matter until we go back and get help from the Green Eyed-"

"No." Arnold replied, "We've got people coming in day in and day out, some of them may be people we know, someone we may know might still be out there. We need to keep looking."

"You don't know tha-"

"I made Stinky a promise." Arnold interrupted, "Earlier today, I watched him slump against a wall and break down in tears because his girlfriend was killed when we took Denison and because he misses his parents. Who's to say Phoebe, or Harold, Eugene, Charlie, Nadine feel the same way?!" Miles was speechless.

"What do I tell them? Drop all their hope and come along with me on a magical mystery tour in the beautiful San Lorenzo jungle? Forget it!...I made a promise to Stinky that I will make for every single _fucking_ one of them..." Arnold finished. He turned and marched away from his father, still standing there in awe.

Stella came from around the corner, "I heard all of that..." She said as she wrapped her arms around Miles' shoulders.

"Our boy is growing up...but he has so much more to learn."

"He's gonna be a father Miles, passion will blind him just as much as it does you." Stella said as Miles turned to give her a kiss.

"I just hope for his sake...it doesn't take a tragedy to get him to snap out of it..."

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1400 Hours

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The sun shined brightly at a 45 degree angle onto the base as Arnold's team hopped in their truck. The 801st was loaded in the APC and the engines of both vehicles purred. Harold drove the truck, Stinky rode shotgun; whilst Gerald, Arnold and Charlie sat in the back, decked out in their defense gear, standard kevlar body armor and M14 carbine rifles. Each had their own unique weapons: Arnold with his revolver, Charlie had a Walther PP7 custom made from the armorers, Gerald scavenged dual Berettas from their Denison raid a few months back and had Alpha provide him with suppressors for both. Harold was given a black Desert Eagle with silver lining, and Stinky settled for a nickel plated Colt .45 M19A11. The front gate rolled itself open and the APC revved its engine once more before taking off through the open gate. Harold floored it with the truck and they hit the road. Arnold and the rest bounced in the back of the truck as its wheels hopped over the gate track and onto the smooth asphalt road.

Arnold combed over his body, checking for everything until he patted the emptiest part of his waist belt. His radio was gone.

"Shit." He exclaimed.

"What's goin on buddy?" Gerald asked.

"My walkie, I wasn't carrying it this whole time..."

"Never thought of you to be incompetent Arnold, aren't you supposed to be perfect?" Stinky asked with a wink. Arnold grinned cheek to cheek, not just at Stinky's jest but out of joy that Stinky's mood was picking up from their encounter earlier that day.

"I've got my radio bro, and we've still got the CB in the cab with Harold, we're covered." Gerald reassured his friend. Arnold sighed and just leaned back in his seat.

.

"There they go." Cody said from his hiding spot in a bushel that the truck and APC sped past, "Time to get movin kid." He said, standing up. John crawled out from a nearby similar bush.

"Who do you think is in there?" John asked.

"Who cares, whatever they bring back still won't be enough to feed us. If Shortman tries to offer some of that shit they bring back, his son is as good as dead. Let's move, we should reach Denison by nightfall." With that, Cody took off with John not too far behind as the sun continued to hang in the sky, barely touching the desert horizon.

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.

.

Helga finished Pride and Prejudice, her fourth novel in the last few months and set it on her dresser. Barely any light shined through her window, the clock read 7:32. _Some library this place has got,_ she thought. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

A bit suspect considering it was dark; _who would want to talk to a pregnant girl at 8 in the evening?_ Helga carefully got off the bed and waddled to the door, peaking through the eyehole. Pure blackness, almost like the hole was being blocked...Helga gripped the doorknob with her left hand but waved her right hand over the dresser, prepared to grab the lamp. She turned the knob and carefully pried it open...

It was Phoebe.

"Helga." She said, almost solemnly.

"Oh hey Pheebs, you're so short I couldn't see you through the eyehole." Helga jested in relief.

"Yeah...still not growing much nowadays." Phoebe replied, a tone of sadness in her voice as she invited herself into the room.

"What's got your goat girl?" Helga asked as Phoebe slumped in the desk chair across from the bed. Phoebe was quiet for a minute.

"It's just.." She said, finally breaking her silence, "We haven't seemed to talk much since we got here. You seemed preoccupied with Arnold proposing and helping him get over his grandpa...Gerald hasn't exactly been the best company, being there for Arnold more and more often..."

"Well yeah, it's a crazy time we live in, can't go back to the way it was like in 4th grade y'know?" Helga said.

"That's the thing Helga! I think we can!" Phoebe rebuttled, "Just because we're still struggling doesn't mean we can't still _be there_ for one another. I mean we're still best friends right?"

"Of course Pheebs! You still got me." Helga said, smiling.

"Doesn't feel like it so much, I've been through a lot and I really needed you there for a lot of it."

"Hey in case you didn't know, I was dragged away to a secret research lab with four of our other friends...I stalked you guys because I thought you had all gone mad and were treating Charlie like shit...then after that..." The dark in Helga began to shake her up again. Phoebe at first only sat and watched her begin to break down again, then her attention was brought to the lamp which began to flicker...the light switched on and off, filling the room with an omniscient presence. That would've been enough if Phoebe hadn't noticed the lamp beginning to levitate off the desk...

Phoebe stood up as she saw Helga's anger begin to melt into sadness, and realized her selfishness, "I'm sorry..." She said as she reached down to hold Helga in a loving embrace.

That warmed Helga's heart almost instantly, "We've been through some shit haven't we..." Helga said through her sobs.

"We both have indeed," Phoebe replied, her shock from the supernatural event she had just witnessed still stung her in a way that only left her confused, "Get some rest Helga, I love you."

"I love you too sis." Helga replied, "Best friends till the day we die." Phoebe stood up.

"I'm gonna go down to Alpha, be there for Gerald when he gets back, lord knows what they're putting up with out there."

"Eh, he and football head will handle it." Helga said nonchalantly. Phoebe smiled.

"I'll see you tomorrow if I don't get back before you're completely out." She said as she shut the door, entering the cool breeze of the outside once again. She trotted down the stairs and walked up to the soldiers on patrol.

"Excuse me." She said.

"Yes ma'am, what can we do for you." The presumed leader of the group said, standing up from their small round table.

"I was hoping I could get a ride down to Alpha, one of my friends has been through a hard time and I want to go visit her." She said, a little white lie to hopefully sound more convincing.

"I suppose we could," One of the other soldiers said.

"We still have two more hours Corporal," The leader said, a bit irritated at the corporal for speaking out of line.

"Come on Sarge, it's a 10 minute round trip at most." The corporal refuted. The sergeant began to ponder.

"Okay, Hicks, it's your job, get it done." The sergeant said. Corporal Hicks stood up, dropping his cards on the table revealing their contents.

"And I was sitting on a royal flush..." Hicks said, "Come on Miss Heyerdahl." And he hopped into the truck, Phoebe jumped in the passenger seat.

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.

.

From afar, Cody and John watched as the truck pulled out onto the road and drove off into the night.

"It's like fate _wants_ us to pull this off." Cody said with a devilish grin and cruel twitch in his eye, "Come on." He said as he crawled from his hiding spot. John was not too far behind.

"Cody, why not go through the front? Tell them we're visiting someone."

Without missing a beat, Cody drove his hand across John's face, leaving a red mark, "Are you really that much of a dumbass? Where's that smart head of yours, leave it back in Vegas or something!?"

"Well those soldiers will know we're here anyway after we take this kid hostage," John said in his submissive state, "Won't they radio to those guys to come get us?"

"Not if we tell them we've got a gun glued right to that little fucker's head now will they?" Cody growled. John had no response, he just followed Cody as they headed around to the fenced in basketball courtyard. The fence towered much higher than the rest of the perimeter as it was already placed there from before the break out. Seeing as that part was already sealed off, FTi security had no reason to block it off more. It was the only part of the fence without barbed wire. Cody and John scaled it at a snail's pace but eventually made it over. Cody made ground first while John slipped about ten feet up, colliding his shoulder with the ground. Cody nearly towered over him prepared to beat him again but kept his cool.

Quickly but quietly, the two made it around to the motel parking lot, just out of ear and eye shot of the soldiers camped out near the west balcony. They headed up the stairs and scanned the doors till they made it to one with the name "Shortman" scrawled on it. They looked left and right, noticing the rest of the motel rooms had their lights turned out, but this room was still glowing brightly. Cody raised his knuckle and tapped the door three times.

A few seconds past and no answer. Cody tried once more, this time knocking louder. The response was almost immediate.

"Who are you?" Helga asked a little snarkily. Cody just looked in shock, she was not the football headed kid they were expecting.

"Is...Arnold home?" was all Cody could choke out.

"I'll ask again...who are you?"

"Oh..forgive me..I'm Chris, this is my son Jimmy, we wanted to speak with Arnold Shortman about something..."

"You can tell me, he's not here."

"He's not huh?" Cody said as he scanned the door frame for any security, the door was wide open, ready to get kicked in...he looked back at Helga, "So I take it you're Arnold's 'squeeze'?..." His devilry leaking through his words which mutated into a snarl.

"...The hell do you punks want?" Helga said, almost immediately regretting saying anything as she saw the gun handle poking out of Cody's jacket pocket.

.

.

.

Arnold's heart rate sped up about 3x out of nowhere. He clutched his chest and rainbows started to fly through his head. His grunts got the others' attention.

"S'matter Arnold?" Stinky asked.

"I don't know...just got a bad feeling all of a sudden."

"Is it your future vision thing kicking in?" Gerald asked.

"Maybe, not sure."

Gerald reached over and put a hand on Arnold's shoulder, "It's gonna be okay man, we got this. There's like 8 of us versus what's ever out there, and believe me, I'm betting you it's not that much."

"Remember what Goose talked about in the briefing, there's those new jock zombies we got running around now, who knows how many there are of those now." Charlie said. Gerald was quiet as Charlie did have a point there.

"Two miles out boys, ready your weapons, I want a good clean pickup." Said a voice on Gerald's radio, the sergeant from the APC in front of them. The group fell silent, the intensity between them increased tenfold.

"Just keep your eyes open guys, no one's dying tonight." Arnold said. The group remained quiet as they approached their objective, things were getting real now, as it became completely pitch black outside.

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.

.

The barrel of the gun was a devil to Helga's eyes. Although the hand that held it was flimsy, it was still a menace to her as she slumped on the bed.

"Phone, now." Cody demanded, standing next to John whom held the gun as they both towered over her in her vulnerable state, all she could do was frown at her captors. Cody snapped, snagging the gun from John's hand and plastered it straight onto Helga's forehead, pressing it in, making her skin red.

"Phone." He said again in his monotone voice.

"We don't have phones here idiot." Helga's gutsiness prevailed even with her current circumstances, "Some of the guys have walkies but they're long gone now..." She said, almost triumphant. Cody backed away, almost feeling distraught until he saw something. A long black antennae sticking out from under the bed. Its plastic shined with the lamplight and he knelt down to take a closer look. He reached in and whipped out Arnold's walkie talkie. Helga shut her eyes out of disappointment for her lazy cover-up techniques.

"Someone's not exactly organized around here are they?" Cody said sarcastically as he handled the black box in his hand. He passed the gun back to John who again held it flimsily by the handle pointing at Helga.

Cody walked the other direction towards the bathroom, looking at the walkie.

.

"Something's wrong, you told me they'd be back before sundown." Miles protested, looking out at the desert sky, all in black, no light to be seen, through the window in Goose's office.

"They had a ways to go Miles, they're probably headed back now."

"Fucking Washington..." Miles said under his breath, his malice directed towards Fort McNair and their halfass resupply procedure.

"Two hours, give em two hours and they'll be back." Goose said holding up his fingers. Miles just looked discerning.

"Victor tell you yet?" Goose asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, I tried talking to Arnold, he won't have any of it..." Miles replied.

"Even if it's all bullshit, it's the closest thing to hope we've got." Goose argued.

"Goose," Miles started, "He won't go back."

"Then we're lost...kid has to wake up." Goose said, "We can't hold up in here forever, morale is low with the troops and supplies are dwindling. Vegas could be a gold mine for all we know and we can't get my men in there without them getting jumped by those goddamn bandits. We're running on fumes since winter hit us hard. We need a plan."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Miles patrolled the floor with his hands on his hips.

As if on queue, Victor strolled into the office, his face was stone cold, expressionless, clearly no purpose as to why he came in. Miles knew, he was clearly eavesdropping.

Just then, Goose's radio started to sputter and beep. He glanced at it for a second, then nothing. Everybody in the room dismissed it until it happened again, this time repeatedly.

"You gonna get that?" Victor said, breaking the silence. Goose reluctantly picked up the radio.

"Go for Goose." He said into the walkie, nothing, "General Marshall Goose, respond."...

"Denison Motel calling Alpha Command, come in Command." Said a sullen voice on the other end, hoarse and low, monotone.

"Copy that Denison Motel, we read you, who is this?" Goose asked. Silence. A few beats later.

"This...is the Alpha Slums biting you in your fat crumbling ass General..." The voice replied, no emotion.

Goose had no rebuttal, "Alpha Slums?" Something that sounded new to him, "Thought this was one of the boys in Denison, who the hell is this?"

Cody rolled his eyes on the other line, "Let's disparage with the names, I know you but you don't need to know me." He stood up, "All I can tell you is this: I wouldn't be calling you if this place was equal, _nooo sir_. But seeing it as it is...I have had it with your bullshit Goose. Just because you've made some friends when you started opening up your gates, you start giving them the pampering-royalty-chocolate-on-the-pillow crap that you choose not to give to everyone else. Look out your window to the south, right now." He ordered.

Goose stood up, and walked over to the window. The compound was dimly lit, the base's power struggled to keep the area bright. Across the way, he could spot the hangar where the refugees were being sheltered, "Looking outside yet?!" Cody said, louder and more assertive.

"I am, I am." Goose replied, panicky, almost as much as Victor and Miles who listened in.

"Good, see that hangar? You have 100 people in there, you serve the bare minimum to all of them with this ticket system, thinking you can ration your supplies by giving less to them. That's not a shelter Goose, that is a fucking dog pound..." Silence, "Now like I said, I wouldn't be calling you if this wasn't an issue, but you've left me no choice, same with dozens of others with starving children and families and they are being treated like shit. So I decided...if I can't bring you to the dog pound to see what's on the up and up, I'll bring the dog pound to you...You know where I am right?"

"That I do..." Goose sighed. Miles just stood there, he glanced at Victor who locked eyes with him, both frozen stiff in their panic.

"Good, I paid your 'motel' guests a little visit, in particular a room with the name 'Shortman' scrawled on it." Miles gasped in fright.

"Unfortunately that football headed bastard was nowhere to be found but I found the next best thing. Pretty little blonde chick with a plump belly and a very gorgeous looking ring on her finger, looks like a family heirloom, goes by the name uh..."

Cody clicked off the radio and put it to Helga's mouth while pressing the gun to her head with the other, "What's your name miss?"

"This is...Hel-Helga Shortman." He pulled the radio away.

"If I'm not mistaken, that is Colonel Shortman's daughter in law right?" Silence, the evil seeping through the speaker filled everyone who was listening in with more manic and dread.

"A little leverage never hurt to get a decent ransom out of this," Cody said condescending, "Now let me clue you in on what I want. I know you pamper your buddies with better shit than what you're giving those people in that hangar, and that is going to stop. From now on, everybody you have kept here in the motel is going to go back to the hangar where they get to feel the cold hard concrete floor against their back as they sleep every night and sipping puke out of a tin can 3 times a day for food. I want a room in this here motel for me, my son and my wife where we can get the luxury you loved to give so dearly to your little 'family'. And simply put, if you don't deliver, Miss Shortman here gets several in the head and a date with the infected to feast on her corpse for days to come..."

A deep dark hum mowed in Miles' head, the pure silence in the room filled him with both anger and fright as things turned south.

"Listen...whoever you are, I-I'm sure we c-can work this out," Goose continued to stutter, "We have plenty of room for expansion, Denison's metro is barely tapped, we'd be fine trying to relocate all the refugees including you and your family to a more comfortable-" _BANG!_ echoed through the radio speaker...

Miles' heart sunk into his shoes, Goose's fingers squeezed the radio while his lips quivered and sweat began to pour down his forehead...

"The next one won't be aiming for the dresser General...I mean it." Said Cody's low monotone voice again, "You have until sunrise, radio each and every person in this motel to clear out and go back to your base. My wife's name is Sarah Redfield, get one of your men to escort her up here. And don't even try telling those boys of yours right outside this room to move in on us because this gun will be aiming at Helga's pretty head until I see my wife come through this door and the rest of the rooms emptied. Do you copy...?"

Goose looked at Miles as he sat down at his desk, he clicked his radio, "I copy. We'll get on it..." The silence stayed this time.

"I guess now's not a good time to talk about San Lorenzo..." Victor muttered, Goose and Miles both just turned to glare at him. Now was not the time for humor.

.

Helga's racing heartbeat took its sweet time to slow down from the gunshot. She could smell the burning powder as she stared at the dresser, a clean hole embedded in the bottom-most drawer.

"Cody what the hell are you thinkin? We are going against a full army here, are you seriously thinking this will work?!" John stated frantically, "They probably have a full platoon on their way here now to put us both in the dirt."

"No they don't." Cody said, complacent, "I've seen Goose around this guy's father, they're simpatico like no other. If he cares so much about this dude and his family or everybody he "cares about", he'll do as I say. He brought this on himself anyhow..."

"And you're trumping him by putting a gun to this chick's head?!" John refuted, Cody struck him once more, John nearly stumbled to the floor. He looked back at Cody in terror.

"This isn't Vegas Cody...you need to wake up! General Goose isn't even close to Malcolm!"

"I told you not to say his name!" Cody shrieked.

Helga's fear levels began to spike again. Suddenly she saw the light flicker again, Cody and John seemed to pay no attention to it. Helga's chest tightened as she looked around the room, for a means to get out of this...she noticed a flashlight, sitting on top of the dresser that Cody had shot.

Then she felt a rumbling, it was faint but she could hear it, again it didn't seem to bother Cody and John in their little argument, then the surprise came to her again when the flashlight started to move...

"Either you're with me or against me John..." Cody said, slowly breaking the illusion, and snapping Helga out of her daze. She looked at them then back at the flashlight, which had shifted a couple inches towards her, she wasn't tripping, it was real.

.

"We have to go over there, break in through the roof or something!" Miles exclaimed.

"Did you not hear them? If we do or say anything, they're gonna kill her." Goose protested. Miles took a second, recollecting the situation that a random survivor had a gun to his daughter in law's head.

"We'll just sit tight, if Arnold's friends are still there, radio them in and get them here quick. In the mean time I gotta contact all my troops, God knows _how_ many of them were listening in, that was broadcasted to the whole damn base." Goose said, Miles continued to stay silent, "Miles! Now." He said, grabbing Miles' attention. Miles turned and pulled his own radio from his belt.

"Alpha Base calling Denison Motel, come in Denison..." Miles said, clicking the radio off, "Alpha Base calling Denison Motel, Eugene, Sid, anybody read?" More silence.

"Yeah this is Sid, what's up Colonel?" said a voice on the other line.

"Sid, you need to evacuate the motel, gather everybody in the courtyard and have the soldiers on patrol escort you all back to base, immediately."

"What's going on Miles?" Sid asked, the worry was subtle but indicating in his voice. Miles paused, wondering how he was going to explain this...

.

.

.

The supply drop was further off than they anticipated, by the time they located it, a couple miles away from the main road, it was pitch black all around. The 801st piled out of the APC, flares were tossed in all directions. Even with their fiery red blaze, Arnold's group barely felt safe as they themselves climbed out of the truck. The containers were intact for the most part. Two of the food pallets had broken their seal and metallic canisters were sprawled out on the desert sand. Everybody clicked on their shoulder flashlights and surrounded the pile of supplies.

"Nothing too bad we can't handle." Sergeant Farrell said optimistically, "Alright boys, let's get the truck loaded up. Squad I want you all watching 6 different angles, ten feet apart, watch your spacing. Let's get this done." And everybody went to work. Arnold, Gerald, Charlie, Stinky and Harold created an assembly line, passing each item to the next person until it got in Harold's hands whom tossed it all into the truck. The bigger containers required two people lifting them up.

Gerald and Arnold loaded the last of the heavy boxes into the truck and rested against it for a minute.

"Arnold..." Gerald muttered, "I want to, apologize..."

"For what Gerald?" Arnold asked curiously.

"I miss my brother y'know? Not a day goes by that I don't think about him or the rest of my family. Knowing I won't see them again..." Gerald explained.

Arnold just listened, minimally confused.

"When I pulled a gun on you after the plane crash...I don't know what I became. Just looking at that pile, couldn't take my eyes off it. Just thinking of it as the last true image of my family I'd remember. I just snapped."

"Gerald..." Arnold said, approaching him closer, "You got nothing to be sorry for, we've had over seven months of healing and I think we're doing alright!"

"Always the voice of reason Arnold, as usual." Arnold just shrugged, his signature grin formed on his face, "I've said it a hundred times and I'll say it a hundred times more, you're a bold-"

A flying box interrupted them as Harold tossed the last of the supply drop into the truck past them, "What's with the meal break guys? We got a job to do!" Harold said as he walked around to the driver's cab. Arnold and Gerald shared one last glance.

"You know it Harold, let's go home." Arnold said with a smile. Images of cuddling Helga and holding her as they slept comfortably in their motel room gave him a shrill of confidence and happiness, amazed at how things turned out out there.

Meanwhile, the soldiers began loading into the APC.

"Wait, Private Daniels, and Corporate Welker" Farrell said to two soldiers, "Check the area about twenty feet out, if Goose catches something off in inventory he'll have our asses for dinner..." The soldiers both grunted and turned. They clicked the flashlights on their rifles on once more as they moved out into the desert, scanning the area for anything they might've left behind.

"See anything?" Daniels asked.

"Nothing...I'ma take a piss real quick." Welker said.

"We're on a schedule dude, hold it till we get back to base will ya?" Daniels protested.

"Shut up private, get your ass back to the vehicles, I'll be there in a minute." Welker responded. Daniels just scoffed and began to walk towards the dimly lit parameter lights on the APC.

Welker was overwhelmed with sweet relief, three gallons of orange juice finally rid from his system. Welker zipped up his pants and grabbed his rifle, swinging it around. The flashlight caught nothing but more desert until it stopped on a large grey mass. Before Welker knew it, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder as what felt like teeth and razor claws gripped him and pulled him further into the desert.

Welker's screams caught the attention of everyone at the vehicles who looked out towards the sound's direction. They could see nothing but what appeared to be the small light on Welker's rifle flailing around until it finally shut off.

"Corporal!" Farrell screamed from the side of the APC.

The next few minutes stretched out to several hours as everybody heard thuds on top of both vehicles. They looked up and shined their lights on two grotesque creatures, their eyes glowed an eerily green, similar to that of infected humans but much brighter. Their structure was humanoid but hardly comparable to regular people. Although they appeared to have been human at one point. Their skin shined in a glimmery pus that was smeared all over their skin which looked like a hardened grey matter similar to a rhinocerous.

Everybody was hardly paying attention to Welker's dying screams that they nearly missed both creatures leaping from the trucks, emitting a shearing screech as their skin appeared to emit smoke from the rifle flashlights pointing at them.

" _JOCKS!"_ Farrell screamed as he opened fire carelessly. Everybody else followed suit, shouldering their rifles and firing at the creatures as they leapt around the vehicles. Their bullets appeared to do no damage as the jocks weren't bleeding. Their skin appeared to absorb the bullets.

"Sergeant! We have to _leave!"_ Arnold hollered as he fired at a jock which was about to charge at him, jerking left and right to avoid the flashlight rays. The jock was not close enough to swing at Arnold with a killing blow but still launched him against the truck. The collision caused Arnold to shiver in pain as he landed on the sand. He felt a hand gripping his arm pulling him to his feet again.

"They can't be killed Arnold we gotta go!" Stinky yelled as he helped Arnold to the back of the truck. Gerald and the rest followed behind. The jock's inhumane screeches echoed into the night.

"Shine your lights on them, they're sensitive to it!" Gerald yelled as they all shuffled to the truck. Gerald's rifle clicked empty. He cursed as he dropped it and whipped out his Berettas, unleashing 9 millimeter chaos on the jocks which both seemed to go for the truck instead of the APC. Farrell and his group were hopping in it preparing to leave themselves. One jock began slamming against the truck, nearly tipping it over while the other advanced on Arnold's group as they piled into the truck. Stinky was the last one still not in the truck, holding it off with his shotgun, seemingly doing more damage than the others did with their rifles.

" _Stinky!"_ Arnold screamed. Stinky had struck the jock in its head which seemed to kill it as it fell to the floor but continued to move. Thinking the coast was clear, Stinky began climbing into the truck-when suddenly a large grey arm swung around and gripped him by the shoulder, whipping him away from the truck back into the sandy desert, disappearing into blackness.

"NOOOO!" Arnold said as he and the others hopped out to go after him. Gerald picked up Stinky's shotgun which fell a few feet away from the truck. Farrell heard the commotion and his squad began to move the APC towards where Arnold and the others were going.

Arnold caught eye of Stinky's struggle with the jock as he swung his rifle around, hoping to catch something with the flashlight. Stinky was not in eyesight but Arnold could see the jock swinging back and forth, with Stinky's body flailing around like a ragdoll in its mouth. Arnold emptied the rest of his rifle into the jock's back while Gerald unloaded into it with the shotgun.

The jock, seemingly irritated by the gunfire turned around, its jaws and fangs caked with fresh blood on them. Gerald, out of nowhere, dropped everything he had, and in his anger charged the jock with his bare hands. He gripped it by its neck and squeezed. The jock tried to get a scratch on him but a new pain started burning in its head. Gerald's hands began to glow red again, and this time they began to emit flame. It wasn't long before the fire in Gerald's hands began to burn through the jock's skin, all the way down to bone which Gerald easily snapped off, decapitating the jock with one good twist, and spilling its blackish oozy blood onto the sand. Gerald tossed the head aside and went over to Arnold and the others who were attending to Stinky and his shoulder which was missing skin and muscle. Gerald held back his nausea when he saw the jock had torn right into Stinky's collar bone, indicated by a small white strip jutting out from the surrounding pink-red mass.

"No" was all Arnold could say, over and over again as he cradled Stinky in his arms, blood pouring onto his pants and shirt. "No no nononono Stinky no, you-you're gonna be okay." The tears came instantly. Stinky coughed up more blood as he went into shock. Farrell and his team came out from the APC to surround them.

"Y-you gotta do it Arnold, fast, p-pllease." Stinky said, slobbering and choking on his own inner fluids, a fountain of red began to spew from his lips. Stinky reached for Arnold's revolver, still pocketed in his holster. Arnold batting his hand away.

"No no y _ou saw what happened with Charlie, we ca_ n brin _g yo_ u back!" Arnold said through his sobs, his voice becoming less like his own through the crying.

"Pl-ase keep goin-this a good thi-ng we got goin here don't ever stop" Stinky muttered, his breaths getting shorter and shorter, his head began to twitch, the infection was setting in...

"Arnold you gotta do it." Gerald said.

"Son your friend is gone already, will you do it or should I?" Farrell said behind him, realistic but compassionate.

"N-no I can't." Arnold said looking between the soldier and his dying friend. Without missing a beat, Stinky gripped Arnold by his jacket, smearing more blood and muscle matter on it.

" _10 SECONDS! 10 SECONDS!"_ Stinky screamed as he let go, writhing on the floor, his words not sounding like his regular dialect. The twitching grew more consistent. Arnold unclipped his holster and drew his revolver out as tears streamed from his eyes onto his shirt, mixing in with the blood and chunks of flesh. More screeching could be heard in the distance. Gerald and everyone else whipped their heads around, hearing but not seeing the infected population closing in on them. "10 SECONDS!" Stinky continued to scream in an almost non-human screech, his eyes fading in a sharp green color as the infection completely took him over...

 _Bang!_

 _._

 _._

 _._

To Be Continued


	30. He Who Seeks Vengeance

Phoebe continued to pace back and forth in the hangar. Her anxiety became more opaque to the rest of the refugees whom glanced at her every now and then.

 _First Arnold's group takes forever to get back and now this? Radio silence, no one's talking..._

She only heard whispers, and could tell from the soldiers running around that something had happened at Denison. She thought about Helga.

Phoebe returned to her table and food to help her calm down, but her shakes continued to tremble into her hand which caused her soup to spill out of her spoon. After several failed scoops of food, she frustratingly pushed it away and crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. A cloud of negativity roamed over her head, wondering what all could've gone wrong in the last several hours.

Phoebe then heard a noise, like grinding humming metal. She turned towards the hangar door and saw as it began to slowly raise itself up, revealing the parties whom were entering the hangar anew.

"Sid? Eugene? What're you guys doing here?" She completely overlooked the fact they were hauling sleeping gear and what appeared to be all of their stuff they had kept in their motel rooms. She even noticed Eugene hauling a small purple backpack in addition to his own stuff, Phoebe recognized it as her own.

"What's all this?" She asked as they plopped their stuff down in front of her. They couldn't bring themselves to say anything.

"Eugene?" Phoebe said, looking into his eyes, his downtrodden gaze and flushed eyelids full of dry tears were, although an inefficient answer, the best one she could get out of him.

Phoebe's anxiety only caused her heart to race again and she lunged at Sid, gripping his shoulders, "Sid, tell me what happened?!"

He was quiet, looking down at the ground, then he glanced at Phoebe after she shook him once more, "They got her Phoebe." Phoebe's heart only raced more as Sid began to play the pronoun game.

"Helga's been captured." Phoebe's anxious look morphed into a gaze of shock.

"What? By who? How? I was just in her room!"

"They didn't tell us anything. I just got a call from Miles on the radio to get as much of our stuff out of the motel rooms and have the soldiers on patrol take us here."

"We were right next door.." Eugene spoke up, "We were right next door and we didn't even realize what was going on...they had a gun right to her head."

"We heard a loud _pop_ and didn't realize it was a gunshot. I was about to check it out when I got the call." Sid added.

"But who the hell is waving a gun around and holding my best friend hostage?! And what for?" She said loudly for the whole hangar to hear her.

"Someone's been getting jealous of the way I've been treating you guys." Said Goose from across the way, coming in from the main hangar door behind Sid and Eugene.

"And for a somewhat appropriate reason, although I don't approve of the way they've handled it." He added.

"What are you talking about Goose? You mean this guy holding Helga hostage didn't like living here?" Eugene asked, somewhat calmed down.

"I don't know, but he woke up something in me I chose to ignore...I shouldn't have let you guys take that motel. Not until I was certain there would be enough room for everyone here. Look around you."

Everybody spun a whole 360 degrees around the hangar, it was definitely a slum, coughing and hacking voices spewed from all the corners, everybody still sleeping was curled inside raggedy sleeping bags or clothes barely large enough to cover their person.

"It's the best we could've done for the amount of people you've let in Goose. That's not yours or our fault!" Eugene rebuttled.

"Still, just because I know you and all your friends, and how Arnold's dad and I go way back, doesn't mean you guys should get royalty over these people. The living standards are off balance, this guy has made that point for sure..."

" _Are you crazy?!"_ Phoebe screeched, nearly waking everyone up in the hangar, "This guy has a _gun_ to my best. Friend's. _HEAD!_ Why the _fuck_ are we discussing this?" Phoebe didn't use curse words frequently, that much was certain to Eugene and Sid, "What the hell do they want?" Phoebe asked, retaining her composure.

"Well I had everybody evacuated from Denison, the soldiers should be back with Tai's family and the others living up there soon. The guy wants everybody out and to deliver his wife to him who's somewhere in here, in the next two hours."

"And no word from Arnold or the squad he was with?"

Goose nervously and disappointingly shook his head, "They went dark four hours ago, around the time they were supposed to pick up the payload."

As if on cue...they heard a rumbling motor noise and bright lights pulled up to the hangar doors. The sound of a gate electronically shutting echoed in the air.

Two large vehicles pulled into the main courtyard. Goose began to walk towards it, the others followed. From the top of the Alpha Command Center, Miles and Victor exited out onto the balcony overlooking the compound and glanced down, noticing the two familiar vehicles, although they were in a much dingier condition.

Spots of red were smeared all over the front grill of the main truck. The APC which came in behind it had several limbs and chunks of grey flesh painted all around the exterior. The vehicles themselves appeared melancholy, giving off a negative vibe that brought with it a chilled sense of despair.

The vehicles hummed for a second then shut down completely. The squad was the first out of the APC, several had small scratches on their faces, two had severe limps. Goose was the first to order for medical teams whom immediately rushed to help the most injured soldiers onto carts, wheeling them towards the infirmary. Miles had rushed down to the ground floor with Victor close behind him as they sprinted towards the truck. Everybody approached the truck with great discernment.

Charlie was the first to hop out, his thousand yard stare did not go unnoticed by anybody. It was clearly a traumatizing trip. Charlie turned around and grabbed a large bin that Harold had handed to him. Goose waved for two engineer troops to come over and pick up the boxes, filled with strongly needed supplies.

"Be quick, we don't want the people in the hangar to see this stuff just yet." Goose said under his breath.

Arnold was stone-faced when he hopped out. His skin was slightly pale, his shirt and pants were hardly distinguishable from the body parts smeared all over that weren't his. His eyes hardly wandered, as if they were fixated and couldn't move. His robot-like movements disturbed everyone around him as he grabbed the last of the crates which the two troops took once he set it on the ground. Everybody who stayed surveyed Arnold's group as they stood there, scanning over the crowd, even a dropped pin couldn't be heard over the immense thickness the silence around them carried. It slowly came to fruition that they realized one was missing...

"St-Stinky?" Eugene was the first to ask.

 _ **Hey Zombies**_

.

.

.

 _He Who Seeks Vengeance_

A shadow of fear cast itself over the whole compound after Arnold told the group what happened. It took them nearly half an hour to dry the tears off their faces. Arnold was the only one who didn't shed a single one. Miles approached him with a subtle caution in his walk before he gripped his son's shoulder pulling him in.

"He died helping us Arnold. You know that better than anyone here." Miles said quietly to Arnold.

Arnold was quiet, the sniffles of his friends filled the silence, "I know." Arnold said out of nowhere, "He's gone, there's nothing that can change that."

"I'm sorry son." Miles replied. Arnold looked at him, glared into his father's eyes, the anger between the two fused, Arnold could hear his father's heartbeat, louder than a normal human's ears could pick up.

 _Arnold stared deeper into his father's head, he could hear whispers, a shallow hum revolved around as he gazed into his father's thoughts, not wanting to hear what the thoughts were saying_ _, Arnold's rage was only fueled more as he got to the center of what his dad has been dealing with while he was gone..._

 _._

"So this guy gets you on the radio, broadcasts his threat to the _entire_ base, and you didn't think for a second he might've been bluffing?" Victor said.

"You heard Helga's voice. He has a gun to my daughter's head, his demands were clear. What more is there to argue about?" Miles refuted.

Arnold stood silently, leaning against Goose's desk, his arms crossed, a single vein bulging from his forehead, the anger still brewing in his mind. Things were bad and they weren't going to get any better.

"We've got 2 hours till that sun hits the horizon Victor, if you've turned over your new leaf and are now helping us then help us, don't be an ass about it." Goose said.

Victor just scoffed, "This won't make things easy going to San Lorenzo...with Peterson dead..." Next thing Victor knew, he was up against the wall, Arnold's remarkable strength pinning him against it, a corkboard nearby tumbled down from the collision.

"Don't...ever...say his name again." Arnold said in a low tone. He set Victor down in his chair again.

"Really need to work on those abilities Arnold...you don't know your own power..." Victor said, stroking his now heavily bruised neck.

"Who was the guy talking about that he wanted brought up there, his wife?" Miles asked.

"Yeah, Sarah I think, we've got two Sarahs listed on the refugee list. What makes you so sure he's gonna give Helga up after we bring Sarah up there?" Goose replied.

"I'll make sure of it..." Arnold said turning away from Victor, "Where is Sarah."

.

.

.

Lipstick, mascara, toothbrushes and shaving cream went flying in the bathroom as Cody continued to make a mess in the bathroom. His passionate anger fueled him as he wrecked the spoils given to Helga and Arnold in their motel room.

John waited, patiently but reluctant at Cody's actions. He looked at Helga who was now laying on the bed, her legs sprung out and impatiently stroking the sheets of her own bed. John leaned in.

"Hey." He whispered. Helga looked towards him, first with her eyes and then directed her whole head at him, "You didn't go to Kansas State by chance did you?"

Helga raised her eyebrow, confused at her captor's friendly, yet extremely random question, "Fooor a semester yeah? Dropped out cause I couldn't afford the tuition, had to go back east for community college, plus I was missing my boyfriend at the time." She gestured towards the door, implying she was talking about Arnold.

"You're married to him now? How'd that happen?" John said again, still speaking quietly, "I mean, you couldn't have been in college till shortly before this world went to shit right?"

"Long story." Helga said looking down at the bed, then at the bathroom where she could see Cody's bulking shoulders still rummaging through, she could hear him mumbling.

"If you're looking for dental floss, I think it's in the bathtub, in the corner where you knocked down the shampoo." She said sarcastically. Helga immediately regretted speaking louder as Cody marched out and got right in her face, pistol waving wildly around her head. Their heavy breathing synced up as both Helga and Cody began to break a sweat.

"You're cute." He said with a snarl, "Wish I had a daughter like you." He backed away, keeping his cool, or what was left of it, "Beats this piece of shit I'm lugging around everywhere." Cody said, gesturing towards John.

"Oh leave him alone, the kid's what, 19-20 years old? If you didn't want him so bad why didn't you wear a condom?" Helga said brashly. John began to shake his head and wave his hands, signaling Helga to not say anything.

Cody held up the gun again, "I don't think you're in a position to play therapist with us miss."

John looked at his "dad" then back at Helga, "Now shut your mouth, say one more word and you may not be leaving here in one piece." Cody threatened. Helga settled back into the bed, eyeing John once more who looked at her distressingly, shaking his head.

Cody sat in the computer chair, and the room was silent once more

.

.

.

Gerald rested against the thin cold metal wall of the hangar, a sleeping bag barely draped over his legs, soaking in the blood and guts from the clothes he had yet to change out of. Phoebe hardly cared as she curled further into his body, holding his bloodstained shirt tightly. Circled around him were the rest of the group, all slumped on the floor, legs crossed or lying flat on the ground.

"Something isn't right here." Nadine said, "Arnold wouldn't just leave us when we're all going through the same thing like this..."

"Yeah, Stinky was his friend too, what makes him think he can just drop out on us when we've all got grieving to do." Harold chimed in.

"Arnold always has been wise kid, probably telling his father what happened to you." Tai spoke up. Sid sat next to him and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah... how we risked our asses trying to save all these starving asswipes for a couple days more of food." Harold argued

"The fuck Harold?" Eugene erupted. Harold looked at him in shock as did everybody else. Eugene was not a swearing guy...not even kiddie curse words. In fact nobody in the group was much of a cusser, but it was always surprising when someone popped a dirty word.

"We went through the same thing these people did out there. You can't expect us to think we're above them!" Eugene stood up.

"They've all lost people, we were just lucky for a short while... you can't possibly think we were all going to be kept safe for long. It's time to realize things aren't pretty anymore, the world we live in now is not as merciful as it was before! This isn't a cartoon Harold. We lost a good friend in Stinky...but if I recall he's not the first we lost. Arnold's grandpa Phil sacrificed his life to save Charlie, hell Charlie was even a _zombie_ at one point!" Eugene sat back down.

"Man up Harold, things don't always work out the way you want them to..." Everybody continued to look stunned, the grief was clearly changing Eugene's optimistic view on life.

Gerald looked shocked the most, whatever he was going to say to rally the group again was clearly not gonna beat that. He looked down at Phoebe, her eyes still leaking fluids, he nudged her.

"Hey...you okay?" He whispered. Phoebe nodded slightly, "I just miss him."

Gerald looked up again, "Yeah I think we all are going to...for a _long_ time..." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the small door to the hangar opening. He turned and noticed Arnold walking towards them, anger still showed in his steps. Gerald began to worry.

"Guys." Arnold called. The group got to their feet as Arnold rallied them around him.

"Listen, things have turned against our favor for the upmost worst right now, that's clear as day. And I know you deserve to have me grieving along with you. But now we have to keep our heads cause this isn't over..."

The silence emanated from the group as they waited for Arnold to make sense of himself, "Helga's been taken hostage. Some angry refugee and his kid broke into mine and Helga's room while I was away and are now threatening to kill her if we don't do as he asks."

Nobody but Gerald could sense the bloodlust in Arnold's voice.

"They wanted everybody in the Denison motel sent back here, which I'm understood my dad had already taken care of. All that's left is the captor wants his wife."

"What makes you certain he's just gonna hand her over when his wife gets there." Harold argued.

"He better..." Arnold said. That nailed it firmly into Gerald's brain, Arnold was going to do something irrational.

"Just sit tight, I'm gonna do the delivering, when they see who I am, they'll have to trade her over on principal, one man's love of his wife for another's."

Arnold turned and approached his dad, asking for the refugee list.

"Arnold!" Gerald called. Arnold turned back, that crazed look, unfamiliar to Gerald, still twinkled on Arnold's face.

"You're not gonna do...what I think you're gonna do right?" Gerald said, trying to remind Arnold of what their lesson was about earlier in the day.

"I'll do what has to be done Gerald." Arnold said, in an eerily monotone voice, inhumane and not something Gerald admired from his best friend. Arnold turned back, clearly in a rush to find Sarah when Gerald grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Don't do it Arnold...you'll ruin everything if you kill-" Arnold swiped Gerald's arm away.

"You think real hard about what you're going to say next Gerald...our good friend is dead, my wife is about to be too if I don't take care of this _for good_." Arnold said, his angry growl was obvious to Gerald, he could see Arnold's hand creeping down to his revolver which settled in his holster. Gerald knew who he'd prefer to use it on.

"Now stay the fuck out of my way." Arnold said as he finally marched away, leaving Gerald even more stunned than he was before.

The combined grief for Stinky's death and now his best friend acting beastly caused Gerald's forehead sweat with even more perspiration...

Gerald watched as Miles led Arnold into the mass horde of survivors, some sitting, some standing. Arnold held the list as Miles guided his eyes through the names till he pointed at one name that appeared to be highlighted. They both looked up and Miles pointed towards a shriveled looking woman sitting at one of the cafeteria benches. Arnold made a b line right to her through the crowd. Gerald could faintly hear him say her name. She stood up, looking startled and alert. Arnold kept the same facial expression as he mumbled the situation to Sarah whom reacted with a frightening look and her hands clapped to her mouth. Arnold immediately grabbed her by the arm and tugged her away, out the small hangar door and implicitly towards a vehicle to drive to the motel.

Gerald looked back at Phoebe then back at the door where Arnold once stood.

"He shouldn't be doing this...our hearts are heavy enough as it is and he can't expect to take the mental burden this will bring on him." Phoebe said, right at his side.

"No...he shouldn't." Gerald said as he began to walk towards the door.

"Gerald!" Phoebe called.

Gerald immediately turned back, "You saw that look in his eye Pheebs, you know what he's going to do when he gets his hands on whoever's got Helga. His gun's still loaded."

"But why you. Why risk more lives when all Arnold's doing is getting his wife back. That's all the kidnapper wants right?" Phoebe argued.

"This all goes to shit if Arnold does what he's going to do, you know that Pheebs." Gerald said, clutching Phoebe's head, desperate for her attention.

"Everybody, even the adults, throughout Arnold's life have looked up to him in some way. He was a beacon to us back in Hillwood, when we were kids, and when he starts to kill human beings, going against his teachings, this whole thing, everything we've been building all winter from the ground up, it all comes tumbling down."

Phoebe just stared into Gerald's dark eyes, his passion was clear, she could feel warmth from his hands as his heat power started to kick in again.

"I'm going after him. Stay here and look after everybody." He said, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

"Good luck." Phoebe said.

Gerald burst out of the hangar door, already short on breath, the expedition drained most of his energy. He frantically looked all around until he saw a patrol motor bike sitting idly near an outhouse. Gerald sprinted over to the bike, snagged the keys that hung on the handle and fired it up. The soldier taking a piss burst out of the bathroom and called after Gerald, humorously attempting to bring his pants up to his waist.

Gerald was not going to stop, driving straight at the southern gate that Arnold's jeep had just past through. Gerald managed to slip by as it was closing on him. Gerald caught sight of Arnold speeding on the horizon, his jeep barely in view as Gerald maintained his speed, keeping out of Arnold's sight.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Sarah was quiet, peaking out the window, occasionally glancing at Arnold, whom looked like a statue, motionless gripping the wheel as they sped down the dusty road. Denison Motel began to peak over the hilly landscape.

"Do you want to live?" Arnold asked, more so stated to Sarah. She looked at him in confusion, "I'll ask again, do you want to live through this."

Sarah choked a bit and then just nodded, saying 'yes' ever so quietly under her breath.

"Good. I can tell you had no idea your husband was going to do this...that's my wife he has in there. Just like you're his wife." Arnold said, Sarah was still confused but the terror grew slowly in her mind, the "unknown" scaring her as to what this man sitting next to her was going to do.

They arrived at the Denison motel. A shady grey blue color started to grow in the night sky as Arnold realized the sun was beginning to rise. Arnold pulled up, noticing the gate to the motel was wide open. He cautiously drove his jeep through the entrance and pulled up to the motel stairs. He got out, leaving Sarah to wait. He walked over to her side and threw open the door. He grabbed her by the arm and a wave of despair cast over him instantly, flooding his own mind with images, he had unknowingly tapped into Sarah's memory.

 _He could hear screams of terror and cries for help. He saw himself as Sarah looking into a mirror, a long red line of blood dripping down the side of her face._

 _"Malcolm no!" Her voice echoed. Arnold stopped for a second, wondering who she was referring to. He got a pretty good idea after what he saw next. Images slashed across his vision as he saw more suffering, a brute voice shouting orders and gunshots echoing out. Shadowy figures surrounded Arnold as he stood in what looked like a deserted parking lot._

 _"The kid was young and stupid to begin with, Cody, can't have someone like that in my operation." The brute voice said._

Arnold fearfully pulled his hand away from Sarah. The visions scared him internally but he kept his stone-cold disposition, leaving Sarah dumbfounded as to what just happened. Arnold regained his posture as he reached for Sarah once more, this time keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.

They walked over to the stairs.

"He's gonna expect you to be alone, if I were you, I'd keep quiet about my being here if you don't want a bullet in your head." Arnold said bluntly as they marched up the motel stairs and turned to head towards the room. Arnold placed Sarah in front of the door, pantomiming a knocking action. Sarah looked at him and then nervously at the door, raising her shivering hand up, and tapped it twice.

The door opened several moments later. Arnold plastered himself against the wall, his revolver drawn, gripped tightly.

"Are you alone?" The voice said, sounding young and frightened. Sarah kept her composure before she was about to look in Arnold's direction and nodded.

Arnold meanwhile, was not going to take chances, he swung himself around, drawing the revolver on whoever opened the door, immediately swinging his arm in their direction, successfully striking John in the head.

Arnold passed Sarah, entering the room. He first held his gun on John, now collapsed on the floor from Arnold's strike. A figure in the corner caught his eye and he waved his gun over and saw Cody standing by the dresser, Helga in his grip and his gun pushed right against the side of her head.

It was immediately quiet. Only the rattling of Cody's gun filled the air. Arnold locked eyes with Cody as he looked back, still menacing but a twinkle in his eye showed signs of panic and nervousness. This was not part of his plan.

"I said send her here _alone!"_ Cody barked. Arnold held his stance and his own gun aimed right at Cody's head.

"I was feeling chivalrous." Arnold said coldly.

"You really wanna risk getting this chick's head blown off? I gave you explicit orders and you should've followed them! Now you gotta pay the price." Cody said again sternly. His last words felt like a carbon copy, like Cody had gotten the phrase "pay the price" from someone else. A small shake in his voice gave away his fear. They were quiet again.

After several moments of silence, "Drop the gun _now!"_ Cody ordered.

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" Arnold said with a growl.

"Yeah...you're that prick's son, you and your spoiled fucking friends who get everything they want here while I'm left to starve with my family like dogs!" Cody snapped back. Cody winced when he said "family".

Arnold gripped his gun tightly, he had a clear shot but was uncertain if he was going to take it or not. He slowly began to squeeze the trigger..

"Arnold!" cried a familiar voice behind him. Arnold turned to see Gerald standing at the door. They locked eyes with each other as Sarah slowly creeped into the room.

Arnold quickly snapped his focus back on Cody who had aimed his own gun at Gerald as well.

"Gerald what're you doing here." Arnold said, continuing to stare at Cody.

"To get you to stop. Get you back in your senses. God dammit Arnold this isn't what we've been teaching everyone. You said yourself we don't kill!" Gerald hollered.

"That was before those fuckers took one of my good friends...and this guy decided to pull a gun on and kidnap my _wife!"_ Arnold nearly screamed. Cody jolted for a second, realizing his mistake and regret washed over him.

"This isn't right Arnold. You can't determine someone's fate. You said that yourself. How life is precious, all of it and if we can redirect it, we should. If you kill him, you'll go against everything you've believed in, and the peace we've tried to hold on to for so long here...will be lost."

Arnold's hands began to feel weak, the weight of his revolver grew heavier and heavier. He looked at Cody, seeing the fear in his eyes grow more and more explicit.

"He...he has my wife, if I don't, she could still die..." Arnold said, his voice becoming less intimidating.

"Look at him, he doesn't want to do this." Gerald said, waving his hand at Cody, "He's just as lost as all of us. We've been here for nearly a year, and we still don't know what we're doing." Gerald argued. Arnold remained silent, his revolver hand began to drop.

"This guy didn't kill Stinky." Gerald said bluntly, changing his tactic, "You can't blame him for that. Don't take your anger out on something so pointless. Stinky didn't die by this piece of shit's hand." By the time Gerald finished talking, Arnold had completely disarmed his revolver. He continued to stand there. Cody still wasn't backing down. Arnold locked eyes with Helga who was still fearful. Then he looked at Cody, still holding the gun to Helga's head. The nervousness continued to grow in his mind, Arnold could feel it in his own head.

"Who's Malcolm?" Arnold asked out of nowhere.

Cody and Sarah reacted with shock. Arnold looked at them both before he slowly began to walk forward. He carefully holstered his gun. His bravery indicative and made Cody uneasy, his gun still drawn on Arnold.

"Arnold what're you doing?" Gerald asked, the fright in the room began to creep on him as well.

"You're right Gerald. He doesn't want to do this. He thinks we're like someone else. Someone named Malcolm."

Cody began to shake, the gun feeling heavy in his weak malnourished hand.

"I swear I'm gonna kill her if you take one more step!" He cried.

"No you won't." Arnold said, keeping his eyes locked on Cody. As he got closer, he glanced at Helga for several moments who slowly began to cry, thinking her husband was sealing her fate right there. Arnold nodded a couple times, signaling her to trust him as he reached for the gun. Creeping slower and closer to Cody's hand. Arnold laid his grip on Cody's gun. Almost like butter, Cody's hand released its grip and Arnold was able to pull the gun away.

Cody's intimidation was completely gone by that time. There was nothing but shock and despair on his face. Arnold could feel trauma beginning to seep into his mind from dark memories of his past.

Helga realized Cody's grip on her began to loosen. Without missing a second, Helga quickly shoved Cody away from her and ran toward Gerald, running into his arms, crying on his shoulder. As Gerald calmed her down, Arnold stood there, looking at Cody, into his soul. He started to feel a pain, the same kind of pain he felt when he touched Sarah and his power took over.

Slowly, Arnold raised his hand. Cody raised his eyebrows in confusion, wondering what Arnold was doing.

Arnold carefully placed his hand on Cody's forehead, and began to feel cold, _diving deep into Cody's memory..._

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To Be Continued


	31. What Happens in Vegas (Part 1)

_**Hey Zombies  
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 _What Happens in Vegas... (Part 1)_

The infected were gaining on him, pushing their stamina beyond normal human conditions. Cody had a moment of panic as he saw the fence in front of him started to blur from the sweat leaking into his eyes, causing a burning sting. With every ounce of strength he had left, Cody pushed himself off from the ground, gripping the metallic coils, heaving himself over the five foot barrier that could've been his doom if he hadn't made it over. The infected trio that was chasing him, too simple minded and eager to devour him, simply face planted against the fence, stretching their arms up and around frantically, not realizing their prey was far from their reach now.

Cody kept going, failing to notice the fresh blood on his hands, rubbed off from the fence from some pour soul who couldn't make the jump, or perhaps didn't want to...

He turned the corner and fell against the wall of a colossal bank. The once beautiful metropolis that was Las Vegas was now a decrepit and abandoned city, with months of decay all around. Cody couldn't tell which building to trust with his escape.

He looked around the corner and glanced at the buildings across the street, scanning the shadows, hoping to see rubble moving and seeing the right person come out. As luck would have it, he was right. Across the street, a tiny male head poked out from behind a crumbled concrete wall, he could see his son waving at him. Shortly after, a short woman poked her head out as well, doing the same motion.

Cody waved his hand back, but not in a greeting motion. Frantically, Cody gestured for them to get back behind the wall. His wife and son nodded in agreement. Cody then pointed his finger in the western direction, then clenched his fist, as if to say "Head that way, run like hell." The veins bulged from Cody's arms as he signaled his family. His blood frantically working overtime to get to Cody's heart and brain in the midst of his adrenaline.

Just then, Cody heard a revving engine, the truck he and his family were once riding in the back of was still on his scent, with whooping voices like a crazy cowboys and indians game gone horribly wrong echoing throughout the dead-like towers and broken neon lights.

" _Cody!"_ cried a familiar voice, " _Where are youuuu!"_ It sent chills down his spine hearing the coyote-like call of his former sadistic watcher, Wurley, now on the hunt to get his favorite chemist back in the lab.

Cody's chest began to pound once more as the infected were no longer the only predator after him. He had to get out of the city and away from Malcolm's clutches.

Cody tried getting another glance at his family but they were already gone, hopefully following his pantomimed directions.

He looked around and noticed a singular alleyway, narrow but looked wide enough for him to fit through. Cody quickly dashed for the opening and slid right through after turning to his side. Coming out on the other side, Cody found himself in what looked like a dematerialized zone but turned out to be a former gas station, destroyed by hundreds of gallons of gasoline going up in flames nearly eight months ago.

Cody looked in horror as he came out in the direction he least likely wanted to end up heading as he saw Wurley's white truck with red bloodstains on the front grill barreling towards him.

" _Come 'ere Codycodycodycodyyy!"_ The devil cried as the truck loomed closer and closer to Cody. Cody knew he was dead if he didn't think quick. He decided to turn back, through the alleyway he came from as it was the only path the truck couldn't follow him into.

It was too late. Before Cody could get his hands on the wall, he felt a sharp pain behind his head, the sound of a wooden block cracking against a human skull and a familiar voice crying "Dad!" were the last sounds he heard before his eyes went dark and he slipped into unconsciousness.

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 _Why go through this Codester? What are you trying to accomplish by getting away? I thought you were a chemistry professor, not a fucking retard! I mean how stupid could you get?_

Cody realized the muffled voice was not some schizophrenic manifestation in his head, but it was the voice of the most terrifying man in the city and the first one to greet Cody as he woke up from his trauma-induced sleep.

"M-Malcolm..." Cody mumbled as he slowly regained consciousness.

"There you are you little fuckboy." Malcolm growled in his deep bass-y sounding voice, "Was worried my boy Ewen hit you too hard on the head! You gotta be careful running out there with people like that! He coulda killed ya! Can't afford to lose you now right?" Malcolm said.

Cody looked up and his vision slowly returned to normal. Malcolm had a Buzz Lightyear face with a square chin, his whole head looked like it was carved from an anvil and placed on a human body. His hair was his most recognizable feature, a greasy combover and a single bang that curled awkwardly up and then down. With a hairdo like that, he could've been an Elvis impersonator back when Vegas was still alive. For a thug and a sadistic former criminal mob boss, he looked very clean, no facial hair at all.

Cody attempted to move his hands but realized they were cuffed behind his back. He realized he was sitting against the wall of the Vegas police station, now Malcolm's base of operations.

"Cody why make me go through all this trouble huh? Sending my doped up men out to look for your sorry ass. Did you actually believe you could get away?" Cody just stuttered, struggling with the handcuffs that binded him, keeping him grounded.

Malcolm stood up from his kneeling position and towered over Cody, "I'm a fucking stunbum for asking but why leave? Why abandon all that you have here? Sure it's better than whatever hellhole you were trying to crawl into out there."

"You killed that kid..." Cody mumbled.

Malcolm leaned in."Sorry what was that? Couldn't hear you, sounded like you had a dick in your mouth." Malcolm's goons chuckled behind him.

Cody looked up, struggling with the aching pain in his head from the baseball bat hitting it. "You made a 14 year old kid go out to look for supplies, and your man left him behind."

"Every man's gotta earn his keep in Malcolm's stronghold now right?" Malcolm said begrudgingly.

"He was barely a teenager! _You killed him!"_ Cody roared. Malcolm just looked around at all his men, each one with his special tic, each with shriveled skin and scabby faces.

Cody knew he was killing them with the drugs he was making for Malcolm.

"Sorry Cody, if he wanted to stay here, there's no slouching, everybody's gotta work."

Cody couldn't speak, just aghast at Malcom's response. Malcolm turned around and saw a woman standing amidst the crowd of tweaking druggies."The fuck are you doing out here Sarah?" Malcolm said, his growl returning.

Sarah just stood there, clutching her right arm nervously.

"It...it was getting cold inside. I needed some air." She said. Malcolm raised his sausage-like finger."Get back inside before I run the train harder on you tonight...I'll deal with you later." Malcolm said with a snarl. Sarah turned to go back into the police station, locking eyes with the beaten up Cody for a second.

"Wurley, make sure she goes where she's supposed to...do whatever you want with her till I get in there." He said, winking. Sarah's dazed look turned to horror when she heard that. Wurley, nearby, smiled a toothless grin, the same effects of Malcolm's other men were clear in his demonic smile. Wurley immediately marched over to Sarah who grudgingly attempted to break away from him, constantly shouting "no! please no!" before Wurley dragged her all the way inside.

Once they were out of earshot, Malcolm turned back to Cody."Malcolm please, I was not thinking clearly, I just...it affected me more than it should have seeing that poor kid get eaten alive. I just wish...just wish you took care of your people more you know?" Cody said, his tone turning to desperation when he was reminded of how terrifying Malcolm could really become with that little debacle.

"Hey, heyyy, no sweat there amigo!" Malcolm said, raising his hands, attempting to calm Cody who was still sitting down, like a crumpled heap of blankets, his tattered face shining brightly with sweat and bloodstains.

"I may be a stern man, but I'm a forgiving man." Malcolm said, holding his hand tightly to his chest, "By my right hand I swear, this will be swept under the rug as soon as we get you back in the lab cooking." He said with a minor smile.

Cody sighed with relief but still felt concerned."However." Malcolm said, Cody's heart immediately dropped, oblivious to Malcolm's malicious intent.

"With this little fiasco and you not cooking on schedule, our meth pickup for Desmond is going to be...delayed." He said, "And I can't have poor business tactics damaging my reputation. I've got men to feed, your family included, hell I gave you guys a personal living space in my own humble abode." Malcolm gestured towards the police station as if it was his birthright to own it.

"And when you try to escape, you make me look bad. You make me look like a bad man you want to get away from." Malcolm chided, shaking his head like he was disciplining a four year old. Cody knew he was toying with him.

"While I'll allow you to still live here, and cook for me, and have _my_ protection in return, you'll still need a proper lesson taught." Malcolm smoothly stated, nodding his head and raising his eyebrows in a friendly but condemning and psychotic manner.

Cody and Malcolm stared into each other's eyes, locking their retinas together as Malcolm snapped his fingers.

" _EWEN! BRING THEM OUT!"_ He roared towards the police station. The door opened and a small skinny figure came out, with two people in front of him. He waved his rifle telling them to move as they frighteningly walked towards Malcolm in the station's parking lot. Ewen shoved the barrel of his rifle into the heavily sweating teenager whom Cody recognized as his son and the blonde, tattered cloth wearing woman who Cody recognized as his wife, Trisha.

Ewen handed them over to Malcolm who politely took her arm. Cody just leaned forward, struggling with his hands which were still cuffed behind him. His heart began to race as he saw Malcolm walk his wife over towards Cody, whom was outraged at how Malcolm was able to capture his family too.

Cody and Trisha locked eyed as Malcolm brought her to him.

"You've got 30 seconds Trish, and remember: no words." Trish shut her eyes and slowly began to sob as she slumped towards Cody, wrapping him in a weakened hug. Her body shook against his as she cried.

"It's gonna be okay honey, we're gonna be fine." Cody said, his reassurance was returned with just more sobs, Trisha's uneasiness made his heart pound in his chest even more. Over her shoulder, he could see his son in the distance, equally nervous and terrified, still held in Ewen's grasp.

Malcolm stood by, observantly, his men continued to patrol around him as they watched their boss at work. Cody closed his eyes, attempting to find pleasure in his wife holding him, but the darkness was too heavy for him to find his peace.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Cody asked. He was filled with immediate regret as his wife choked on her voice.

"You gotta get out of here Cody, they're gonna kill you after-!" Cody's ears started to ring, a low bass hum began to vibrate in his inner brain, like a speaker had just been blown out. The ringing continued as he realized he was instantly covered in blood. Trisha's grasp began to loosen and she fell to the ground in front of him.

A large hole with chunks of flesh bent outward on the side of her head. Cody looked up and saw Malcolm now towering over him, smoke erupting from the barrel of his Glock.

"Told her not to talk..." He said. Cody's eyes grew with the shock and trauma, his heart had leapt from his chest and he felt number than he ever felt before. His entire body seemed to go cold as he continued to stare at Trisha's freshly made corpse.

"Now!" Malcolm growled as he walked away from Cody and his now-dead wife, "I'm not gonna lie I was gonna kill her anyway, but I figured a moment with you would help get your fucking head on straight. But I guess she had her own agenda, as does everybody in this shithole of a world." He said.

Malcolm signaled to one of his men who approached him, reaching into his pocket.

"Now for golden boy here." Malcolm said, gesturing to Cody's son, Trevor. Ewen immediately brought him up to Malcolm who took him by the shoulder and brought him to Cody, still silent and traumatized.

"You'll be glad to hear I'm not gonna kill your boy." Malcolm said, "But, seeing you as you are now, pitiful I might add. Something tells me you haven't learned your lesson. Shit if you had a gun in your hand, I'd say you'd want to blow my brains out now. So here's why I'm gonna show you I mean business, mate."

Malcolm held Trevor in a tight grip, his arm wrapped around Trevor's neck like a snake. He turned to his sides and signaled for two men to come assist. They each grabbed an arm and pulled Trevor in their respectful directions. Trevor began to cry himself as Malcolm walked in front of him.

Cody lifted his head and saw Trevor in his torturous state. Malcolm stood next to him and turned towards Cody, locking eyes with him once again.

Malcolm lifted what the other grunt had given him, a small glass pipe with a large rounded end curving into a thinner narrower tube. Cody recognized it and immediately started shaking his head, barely getting even a "no" to come out of his vocal chords. Malcolm began to load the pipe with a glass-like substance, crushing the tiny crystals into the small hole and then whipped out his lighter.

"Hold him." Malcolm said as his goons pulled Trevor's arms tighter. Malcolm grappled Trevor's tiny head with his bear-like grip and squeezed his cheeks, forcing the meth pipe into his mouth. He lifted his other hand which held the lighter and struck a flame. Cody could just watch in horror as the crystals began to cook inside the small glass pipe.

"Take it in easy at first if I were you, kid. Has a bit of a kick your first time." Malcolm said with a sadistic chuckle.

Trevor continued to struggle, trying to spit the pipe out of his mouth, gasping for fresh air, but the only thing he could breath with Malcolm's hand squeezing his cheeks was the burning methamphetamine that coursed out of the pipe and into his lungs. He proceeded to cough horrifically, the smell, the taste. His hands and feet felt like rubber as he began to vomit on the floor from coughing. Malcolm pulled the pipe away as Trevor spewed his innards onto the cold concrete floor.

"Virgin lungs! I love it!" Malcolm yelled. His joy and sadistic humor scattered throughout as everybody smiled with him, clearly enjoying it just as much as he was.

Cody's face, covered in dirt, and now caked with blood and dry tears, was nothing but a relic now. His expressions were gone and he felt nothing, nothing but the fear and anger that made him realize he was still alive. A condition he had hoped to change if he had the means.

"Now you're starting to look like you learned your lesson!" Malcolm said. He walked over to Cody and patted him on the back. Each hit against his shoulder felt like a worldwide earthquake to Cody. Nothing else mattered to him as Cody saw his son writhing on the floor, clutching his head. He slowly moved his gaze down to his wife, still lying on the floor in a fresh pool of blood.

"Get them back to their room, have a guard on the door. These two have some father and son grieving to take care of." Malcolm snarled as he walked away from the emotionally broken Cody and the twisted grounded Trevor.

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Ewen threw Cody on the floor and Trevor on the bed and slammed the door shut. Cody turned around and saw they were alone and immediately went over to Trevor who continued to twist and turn on the bed.

"Tre-Trevor, talk to me son, Trevor!" He said, shaking Trevor's body.

Trevor weakly turned his head at Cody, "I feel cold dad...I'm scared." He said, clutching his stomach from the excessive amount of vomit he had produced in the past ten minutes.

"I know, I know kid, you're gonna be okay, just...it'll pass, you gotta stay strong."

"M-mom? He..shot her.."

"Yes, mom's gone, but we're still here!" Cody said, his voice began to shake again, "Just hang in there, we're gonna get you all well, just keep resting, the high will stop eventually."

With that, Trevor began to cry, he mumbled, "I'm so sorry dad..." He said through his weakened sobs.

"No no no what do you have to be sorry about!"

"I shouldnt have followed you out therrre." Trevor said, crying trying to get his words out, "sohuldnt have brought mom when you trried to escape, you would've come back for us. I should've trusted you-u." His voice sounded like a broken record with his crying interrupting each word.

"No no it's not your fault. You wanted to get out of here just as much as me. I will _never_ blame you for that, _ever._ " Cody said.

"I'm-so-cold..." Trevor said, his voice feeling more tired as his head dropped. Cody put his hand to Trevor's head and immediately pulled it away. His skin was colder than it should be. Suddenly he began to convulse, his body twitching vigorously.

Cody ran to the door, smacking it heavily, "Help! HELP PLEASE!" He cried. No answer for several moments as he continued to pound. The door then suddenly opened, a zombified guard came strolling in, looking ever worse for wear in his drug addictive state. He walked over to Trevor and knelt down, gave the kid a couple pokes and shoved him once or twice to the anger-induced reaction of Cody standing near by.

The guard turned and looked at Cody with a wide grin, teeth all corroded and crooked, looking like a shriveled walking corpse.

"He dead Cody." He said with a chuckle. Cody just stared, wide eyed, the trauma returned to his conscience and he felt heavy as he stood there. The guard stood up and walked over to the door before looking back. He watched Cody stumble towards the bed, towards his dead son.

"This just ain't your day man, whole family gone in minutes...sheeit maybe you shouldnt've tried to run!" He said as he cackled and shut the door behind him. Cody collapsed to the ground before he could get to the bed and crawled the rest of the way. With what was left of his strength, he hoisted himself onto the mattress and wrapped his son's body in a loving embrace, kissing the back of his head, his body still cold from the drug effects.

Cody was never going to sleep after that day...

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To Be Continued


	32. What Happens in Vegas (Part 2)

_**Hey Zombies**_

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 _What Happens in Vegas... (Part 2)_

The first month wasn't the worst time for Cody. After a couple days of shock, Cody was back in the lab cooking for Malcolm's druggie-infected goons and his distribution line with other "benefactors" in the city. Work, although not his most moral choice of vocation, was a decent distraction.

The second month was the hardest. Cody's work flow was dwindling and Malcolm had to kick him back into gear by leaving his wife and son's severed heads on his desk for him to wake up to one cold brittle day.

By the third month, Cody did not care about anything. Several times a day, he'd sit down against the wall with a pipe and bag of crystal in his hands. For hours on end he'd sit there, staring at the immediate poison he held in his grip. Sweat would roll down his forehead and veins began to pop out, forming their own abstract art in Cody's skin as he struggled with his demons and the desire to end it all right then and there with one quick spark and puff.

The newest addition to his attire was a dangling chain with cuffs on both his ankles. A coiled steel wire ran from the chain link to a curtain system that hung across the ceiling, limiting where Cody could travel in the room. He never slept on the cot they gave him. Sitting against the wall and cooking meth was his daily routine.

Cody's face was more decrepit. His eyes were steely, like daggers jutting from his pupils, looking to stab the next person they looked at. Everybody around him was corrupt, he had no one. It made him question if he was still a good person, if he was even a good person to begin with...

He continued to sit, like a statue. The only clear motion he made while sitting there was twisting the meth pipe in his hand, around and around. The lighter sat by his right foot, a glossy worn out gas station lighter he used when he cooked Malcolm's poison.

Three months full of grief, torture and heartache, and Cody looked like a zombie himself.

One night, Cody was beginning a batch. As he poured the aluminum into the large metal tank, the door suddenly opened, barely startling Cody as he turned towards it slowly. In walked a clean youth, looked no more than twenty, his arms drooped to his side and his face looked as steely as Cody's which disappointed him, seeing such a young kid looking so depressed.

Following the teen was the guard who shoved the kid further into the room.

"Mr. Cody, this is your new _assistant._ Say hi to John." The guard said in his hoarse voice, sounding more and more like a druggie every time he spoke.

Cody stared silently at John, he strangely looked like Trevor in a mature way.

"Hi." John mumbled. Cody just raised his hand, and tilted it slightly, indication of a slothful greeting.

"John says he knows a bit of the chemis-tris-sty stuff, but your ass is gonna have to teach him some shit, kid looks inbred to me." The guard said before laying his foot hard into John's back, shoving him right to the ground. The guard cackled as he turned around and slammed the door shut.

John struggled to his hands, lifting his already-weak body up off the ceramic tiling of the former office.

"You okay?" Cody asked, in his own hoarse voice, sounding like a dozen cigarettes were shoved down his throat, another sign of his emotional decay. He knelt down to pick John up.

"I'm fine. So you're Malcolm's meth puppet?"

"More like the heart of his whole operation. If I stop cooking, his goons start getting the itch, they'll stop obeying him. Cody." Cody replied as both he and John got to their feet.

"John." He said sullenly as the two men shook hands, "I heard about the punishment, and the whole 'head' thing when I got here...sorry you had to see that, pretty fucked up..." John mumbled.

"Didn't the guard just say you're new here? How'd you know?"

"Doesn't matter. I stood at the gate, told the guards I knew about your meth operation. Said I knew a thing or two about the chemistry, and they let me in. Dumbos probably forgot I'm even here. But I have to help make 300 pounds in a week or they flay me alive and throw me to the infected, to put it simply." John said, like the punchline to a joke.

"Cut the shit kid, why are you really here." Cody said, clearly seeing past John's ruse.

"Cause what they did to your family was messed up. I watched from a building across the way, saw your wife get shot, and that prick shoving a meth pipe down your son's throat. I take it he didn't last too long, got hypothermia from smoking that shit right?" John argued.

Cody just drooped his eyes, his mouth agape, no need to answer, the face spoke for itself.

"So I'm busting you out of here. We're gonna go, you and me, and we're leaving Vegas. You need someone new you can trust, and I need a new partner."

"How do you expect me to trust you...?" Cody asked reluctantly. John just sighed and turned towards the workbench which was laiden with filthy glassware: beakers, a line of small glass tubes, and a large boiling flask.

Assuming he was ready to get to work, Cody approached a cabinet to obtain the next batch of ingredients. As he opened the door and grabbed a box, he heard a sudden _crash_ behind him and saw John standing over a broken tube, not panicking, with his hands on his hips like it was on purpose.

Cody wasn't sure if John realized that breaking Malcolm's meth equipment would result in John's dick getting cut off.

"What the _hell are you thinking?!"_ Cody said lowly but loud enough to get his panic across to John.

John meanwhile just looked at Cody, waving his hand, giving the _"_ all's good" sign. John turned to the door.

"Hey buddy! You out there?" He hollered. A few seconds later, the door opened and the guard came into the room again, coughing profusely. Cody assumed he took a hit of meth not too long ago.

"The hell you want?!" He asked, his voice croaking as he belted his words.

"Bit of an accident with the glasswork, little help?" John said, gesturing towards the shattered glass on the floor.

The guard, gullible as ever, approached John and raised his rifle, "You try anything..." He said, cocking his weapon.

"I got that crystal clear." John grunted as his sleight hand reached behind him and quietly gripped a large glass shard. The guard swung his rifle behind him as he knelt down.

His eyes were concentrated on reaching for the pile of glass which prevented him from seeing John's arm swinging around, the glass in his hand dashing across his throat. In an instant, the guard's blood was all over the floor.

Cody crashed against the table, his mouth agape as he watched the guard die right in front of him, collapsed on his stomach as blood welled all around his body. John stood over the guard's corpse, the glass shard dripping fresh blood onto the rundown decrepit ceramic tiling, adding plenty of extra texture to it.

"What the...fu.." Cody couldn't utter his words. John dropped the glass and walked to Cody.

"So you want to leave or not?" John asked. Cody's hands just dropped to his side, and he nodded slightly. John turned to leave and Cody followed suit.

The two exited the dingy room into a more dingier hallway, Cody was familiar with the smell. If this worked out, it'd be the last time he'd get a whiff.

John and Cody stayed plastered against the wall as they moved closer to the lobby of the police station, hoping the guard population didn't exceed at least two.

"What now Einstein?" Cody said, his mistrust towards John becoming more explicit.

"There a backdoor somewhere?" John asked.

"Yeah, but it's in the other direction, we gotta go back." Cody replied. John nodded and turned back.

Huge mistake as they started hearing voices hollering panic and warning, " _They've escaped! One guy dead! Find them!"_

Cody recognized one of the hollering voices as Wurley, Malcolm's right hand psychotic henchman, the one whom hunted him and his family down. He still remembered the girl Wurley dragged into the station, screaming in terror. He didn't want to imagine what Wurley might've done to her after they had left...

" _I said find them! Malcolm finds out we half-assed keeping an eye on them, we're all dead!"_ Wurley roared.

"Front door it is." John said as they turned back in their original direction, panicked and out of options as they dashed for the lobby once more. It was a small room with one desk. Several benches lined the walls, couple of them were tipped over. John's eyes caught sight of three doors: the front entrance where he and Cody could see the outside parking lot, a small metallic closet like door, and the door to the rooftop stairs.

"Maybe we can get to the roof, jump off the back end and run for the gate." John suggested.

"Malcolm's always got two guards up there, no way we're gonna get by without getting shot." Cody argued.

"Got any bright ideas yourself sheriff?" John asked condescendingly.

Cody just shook his head as the two began to panic. Quickly, John acted on a whim as he headed to the stairs to the roof. He placed his head against the door and could hear the _pit pat_ of several footsteps moving down the stairs.

John waved his finger, "Help me with one of these benches!" He shouted as he dashed towards a bench knocked on its side. Cody helped him lift it. Surprisingly it was very lightweight, which worried them as they had hoped it might keep the stairs door shut, buying them time to escape out the front door.

With one last shove, the bench fell against it, making a loud _thud,_ not exactly helping John and Cody's cause as they wanted to make less noise. Cody noticed the closet room and ran to it. He opened the door and looked up, spotting the large metallic grate leading to the police station's airduct system.

"John! Here!" Cody cried. John came to him and noticed the grate.

"Sure that'd fit both of us?"

"It's the only chance we got, boost me up." Cody said quickly. John prepared to help him up as they started hearing banging on the staircase door. The bench began to rock back and forth. John moved to help support it while Cody glanced at him, hanging from the vent.

"Just go! I'll be right behind you!" John said as he pushed against the bench holding the door.

Cody turned and prepared to climb into the vent. But to his horror, the grate opening was the only wide part of the vent. The path leading into the air duct only got narrower.

Suddenly, a loud kick struck the door sending John and the bench flying forward. John hit the ground and was immediately dazed. Cody struggled into the vent to take his chances but his fear only returned as he felt hands grabbing his ankles and pulling him into the hellscape below him.

The pursuers put zipties on John and Cody's hands and led them further into the station. The mildewy smell only got thicker as they traveled deeper.

Cody's hope, which was already dwindling, was completely gone. And now, John is involved, and Cody could hardly imagine what Malcolm's "justice" was going to be, let alone what he was going to do to the kid.

They were about to find out as the guards led them to a tall door. If it wasn't Heaven on the other side, John didn't want it to be opened. Cody knew what they were walking into.

Malcolm's office had one single bulb, burning very dimly and cascading a dark orange light on John and Cody as the guards shoved them into the room. Malcolm sat at his desk, writing reports for methamphetamine shipments he planned to send out throughout the week to various parts of the city.

Malcolm looked up and smiled, although it's clear he wasn't happy to see Cody and John themselves but more or less that they were caught.

"Still trying to break my balls eh Codester?" Malcolm said as he stood up. Cody just stood there, holding his ground but his knees started to feel weak from his fear. Malcolm approached the two, his foot steps booming with a supernatural thud, like a giant coming to prey on those smaller than him. He stood in front of Cody. John nearby, a small line of blood dripped from his forehead from the bench colliding with his skull. Cody, although he had no fresh injuries, still looked worse for wear.

Malcolm smirked then raised his fist, swinging it forward. Cody shut his eyes awaiting the punch, but heard a loud _oomph!_ next to him. He opened his eyes and saw John writhing on the floor. The guard cackled behind him.

"Knew I shouldn't have let this fucker into my unit. You don't know shit about meth cooking do you, bitch?" Malcolm said, kneeling down in front of John who continued to squirm from the immense pain of Malcolm's punch that made him go numb.

"Eh whatever, you both tried to run. You both get to pay the price." Malcolm stood up again and walked over in front of Cody again.

Just then, Ewen burst into the room, "Boss! I got some news about that Alpha base outside of Vegas. They've got more people pouring in every week. If you still wanna take it, we gotta do it quick." He announced.

Malcolm just rolled his eyes in irritation, "Ewen, you dumbass..." He grunted. Ewen just stood there dumbfounded, his simple mind couldn't process Malcolm's words for the life of him. Cody listened, but the information wasn't going to save him or John.

"Get the troops together and go scope it out again and _take count_ this time. I wanna know how many, how old, and how armed. About time we get out of this shithole and get us some new digs to settle in...but not till after these guys get their punishment." Malcolm said condemningly, glaring at Cody.

"Got anything to say for yourself?" Malcolm asked politely, again scolding Cody like a six year old who broke his mom's antique pottery.

Malcolm's sadism and suave means of terrifying Cody were getting old. Cody looked at Malcolm with fire in his eyes, for once in his life, and took the dive, "Go to hell..." He grunted.

"Bout time you grow some balls, for a while I thought you were no less a pussy than your bitch wife and that chickenshit kid of yours." Malcolm snapped back. Cody lunged at him but the guard behind him held him back with ease. Cody was too weak to fight, let alone take on a tank like Malcolm with his Hulk-like physique.

"Alright men, these boys' flaying and feeding time are a little early on the schedule now! Take them outside." He ordered. With that, the guards dragged Cody and John back out into the hall with Malcolm hot on their trail.

They reached the lobby exit that Cody and John had hoped to use to escape, now it was the entrance to their doom. The intense warmth, smogginess, and humidity took over Cody and John. The grey moon in the sky hung dimly in the night sky cascading what little light it had onto the parking lot.

" _ALRIGHT BOYS! WE GOT OURSELVES A SURPRISE SKINNING TONIGHT! GATHER AROUND YOU TWEAKING FUCKS AND BE ENTERTAINED!"_ Malcolm roared around him, little too noisy for Cody's comfort, knowing how sensitive the infected are to sound. Lord knows how many of them were right outside the police station walls that wanted a piece of them after hearing Malcolm's little announcement.

Cody looked around at all the druggies and their lack of gun safety explicit with the way they handled their firearms. He noticed a small figure jutting out from the crowd that was forming. It was Sarah, Malcolm's plaything, in a worn out red dress and bare feet, looking terribly broken in. She struggled with the grip of the guard who held her by the arm.

"Get them down on their knees, this'll be slow and painful." Malcolm said, his voice turning to a snarling growl as he drew his large machete from its belt holster. He first waved the machete over at Sarah.

"You're next bitch, a cactus stick shoved up my ass would be more pleasurable than the shit you try in bed, can't even give a proper blowjob for Christ' sake." Malcolm jeered. He turned back to Cody and John and approached them.

Both of them sweated profusely, their bodies trembling, not ready for the pain they were going to feel.

John was nervous but completely oblivious to Malcolm's intentions. Cody, knowing Malcolm more than anybody, was still numb and aware of the hell they were going to experience. Malcolm was going to cut off their skin with his machete, piece by piece until every bit of muscle and skeleton could be seen. If Cody and John were still alive after that, they'd be impervious to stop Malcolm's goons from throwing them over the wall, where the pain from their innards being exposed would prevent them from escaping the malnourished hordes of infected that would go straight for their delectable exposed flesh.

It was truly going to be hell for them. All Cody could think is, _it'll be over soon, I'll be seeing you again guys_ , looking up at the sky hoping his wife and kid were listening somehow.

Malcolm knelt down and reached for Cody's shirt with his razor sharp blade, preparing to rip the clothes off their backs.

When suddenly, they all heard a loud _crash!_ and looked back towards the gate. To Cody's horror, and to Malcolm's irritation, a large semi was now sitting inside the gate, jutting the metal bars out in all directions. Dust from the shattered concrete blew into the air as the semi that crashed through Malcolm's gate hummed and then stopped. Out of the cab passenger seat came a tall but lankier man, with a navy blue button down shirt on and slacks, looking as clean as Malcolm but not as muscular. From behind the truck, presumably the passengers in the trailer section, came several soldier-mercenary types with assault rifles, aiming their guns in all directions at Malcolm's goons.

The business-man type with the button down shirt and slacks came up to Malcolm.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" The man asked, intimidating but just as suave as Malcolm.

"What the fuck is this Desmond?" Malcolm asked, sheathing his machete, "You punched a hole in my goddamn gate!"

"Could've been avoided if you had delivered your last _five_ shipments on time." The man, called Desmond, replied very sarcastically. It was clear he and Malcolm were in business.

"Not my fault Des, take your anger out on this fucker," Malcolm gestured to Cody, "My one and only chemist has been very misbehaved and I keep trying to smack him into focus for you."

Desmond leaned past Malcolm and looked at Cody, looking pathetic on his knees next to a profusely sweating John.

"Maybe instead of hassling me and fucking up my defenses, you should be telling me why _your payments_ haven't been delivering on time _either?!"_ Malcolm snapped back at Desmond.

"Deliver your meth on time, I'll deliver you my guns on time. Besides, every man here appears to have a weapon in his hand. Why would you need more?" Desmond asked.

"You know how _hard_ it is to keep several dozen meth tweakers under control with shitty half-ass pellet guns?!" Malcolm yelled. His hot-headed disposition completely contradicted Desmond's smooth-talking.

"You know about paying the piper right? Well this is what you get. I'm not gonna argue any longer. Now where is it, before my men blow up every goddamn inch of concrete you got surrounding this shithole."

"Tomorrow," Malcolm said, attempting to keep his cool once more, "These assholes tried escaping and I have to discipline them before they get back to work." To Cody's surprise, if Malcolm was going to truly keep his word _at all_ of sparing them.

"Two words Malcolm, chain-gang..." Desmond said in a low tone. Malcolm slowly reached for his machete once more, ready to chop off Desmond's head when a loud slamming noise halted him. The two both looked to their right and saw a large grey humanoid creature standing on a police car. The dark of night hid most of its features but the screeches it made were still plenty distinctive. The mouth stretched into several grotesque mandibles lined with decayed human teeth, indicating they might've been human.

The jock gave no time for the men to stare in awe as it immediately leapt towards the goon closest to it, pinning him to the ground and immediately started ripping into his face. Everybody else backed up and immediately the parking lot broke into a panic. People everywhere running and shooting, either at Desmond's men or at the jock ripping off the jaw of its newfound prey.

Desmond and Malcolm stood in the chaos of it all, looking around as more jocks easily leapt over the wall without a challenge and started diving for poor souls to devour.

Malcolm could only watch in terror as his men were taken down one by one. It distracted him enough that he didn't notice Desmond swinging the butt of his gun towards the back of Malcolm's head knocking him to the ground. Desmond looked at him for a second and then sprinted into the police station.

Cody turned to John, "We gotta get out!" He hollered over the mayhem.

"The gate's blocked, there's no way we can climb with those things hopping over!" John replied, even more panicked.

"Get back into the station, go go go!" Cody hollered as he stood up, grabbing John by the arm and dragged him back into the station. Cody slammed the door shut and quickly tore the belt off of his pants and tied it around the door handles, creating a makeshift lock.

"Like that'll buy us time..." John said sarcastically. Cody turned and to John's delayed shock, punched him dead in the face.

"Shut up you piece of shit." Cody said. His bravura and dominating behavior stunned John, shocked that this man whom he thought trusted him would strike him down, "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be in the lab doing the one thing that kept me alive. Now I've got nothing, thanks to you you son of a bitch..." Cody growled.

"Cody-I.." John started. Cody grabbed his shirt and pulled him up. The gunfire outside continued as both Cody and John looked at the gate to see ordinary infected pouring in through the broken in entrance. The station was lost to Cody's delight, knowing very well Malcolm was as good as dead out there. Cody turned back to the frightened but grounded John, still shocked at Cody's sudden change in personality.

"If we get out of here, you do as I say. I don't care if you are trying to save my ass, you will not ever do anything without me saying it first. Got it?"

John just stood there, his hands lifted in self defense and he just shrugged, "Whatever man." Cody let go of him and headed into the station. John followed, reluctantly, knowing he'd have a better chance with Cody than anywhere else in that immediate moment.

They headed down a narrow hallway with only a couple doors to choose from.

"We gotta hide, maybe if we wait it out it'll clear up out there." John suggested.

"Too obvious, you wanna get torn up without the slightest chance of getting away? Or would you rather try to get out of this hellhole and actually have a fighting chance?" Cody asked.

"Well what're we supposed to do? Front door's a bust, is there a rear entrance somewhere?"

"Think so...room next to the lab has a back entryway." With that, they dashed through the hall. After several turns, they arrived in the hall they wanted to be in. Everything looked the way it was when they left it, except for an unfamiliar sound of rummaging going on in the lab. Glass was shattering and drawers were sliding in and out.

Out of a peculiar curiosity, Cody and John slunk closer to the door and peaked inside. Desmond, looking a lot worse for wear was throwing equipment left and right, digging and turning the entire room on its head.

"Desmond?" Cody called out, immediately regretting speaking up as Desmond turned to face him. He reached behind and pulled out his Colt pistol from the back of his belt, pointing it straight at Cody.

"Where is it? Where's the stuff you son of a bitch." Desmond breathed heavily, the exhaustion was clear on his face, "Tell me! Or you're a dead man and Malcolm is out of business for good."

"Right in there." Cody thought on his feet and quickly pointed his finger towards the janitor's closet, knowing very well Desmond was not going to find what he was looking for in there, but at least it'd be a distraction.

"Open it." Desmond ordered, completely shattering Cody's plan to get away while Desmond approached the closet.

"Open it, _slowly_." Desmond said again. Cody kept his hands held up as he approached the door. Desmond walked closer to him, the gun directed at his skull, ready to fire. John took a step forward and Desmond quickly whipped his gun around to face John with it.

"Don't you think about it pipsqueak..." Desmond said, the gun visibly shaking in his hand. He turned back to Cody who was reaching for the door knob. Cody shut his eyes knowing whatever he did in the next few seconds, he'd be damned for it.

Cody heard a gunshot, but his vision did not black out. He felt no fresh pain in his body and looked up to see whatever bullet Desmond had fired had gone straight into the ceiling. He turned and saw Desmond pinned on the ground by a bloodied Malcolm with human innards that were clearly not his smeared all over his previously fresh formal clothes. Malcolm sat on top of Desmond who struggled against Malcolm's immense strength and size.

"Dezzy boy!" Malcolm said, a psychotic grin on his face which was covered in guts. Some dripped into his teeth as he smiled and glared at the now helpless Desmond, "Thought you'd leave without saying goodbye?!" Clearly, too far gone...

With that, Desmond was done. Malcolm immediately took his thumbs and pressed them over Desmond's eyelids. The next sounds to come out of Desmond's mouth were just as inhumane as the mutated infected they saw outside. His bloodcurdling screams were enough to shatter the rest of the glass in the room.

Cody took the opportunity and grabbed Desmond's gun. He and John fled through the open door but Cody stopped and turned back. Malcolm continued to crush the insides of Desmond's eye sockets with his bare fists while Desmond's legs twitched and flailed hopelessly with the immense pain he was feeling. Cody slowly walked up behind him and raised the pistol to the back of Malcolm's head. Six months of agony and Cody finally had his retribution. Pulling the trigger was hardly difficult.

But he did not hear the sound he wanted to hear. Instead he heard a small click and he opened his eyes to see the hammer go up on the gun, but nothing fired.

 _"Empty? He just had one bullet?"_ Cody thought frighteningly to himself. His look of revenge quickly melted to terror again as Malcolm crushed Desmond's skull in front of him, almost like he was stuck in a murderous daze.

Cody took a moment before realizing his head would be next if Malcolm snapped out of it and he turned to run. Cody entered the office with the back entrance but noticed John was not alone. Sarah was with him, still in her worn out red mistress dress, as they struggled to tear the barricade apart that was blocking the exit door.

"Done minding the sights? Give us a hand?!" John hollered. Cody shrugged off Sarah's presence and he marched towards the last metal bar. With ease and his still impending rage, Cody threw the bar aside, opening the door. John was the first to fling it open and one by one they headed back out into the chaos.

The gunfire started to die down, the sounds of bone crunching and bloodcurdling screams replaced it. The infected had clearly became more of the majority population in the parking lot since Cody and his group had escaped Malcolm's clutches. Cody ran to the side of the building and peaked around where he could see the front parking lot, covered in blood and guts; a more appropriate decor for Malcolm's agenda, considering his psychopathic tendencies. Cody looked back at Sarah and John who were huddled behind him. He sighed with frustration, their similarities to Trisha and Trevor were too obvious and Cody did not want to re-live that pain. With that Cody walked past them and rushed over to the garbage dumpster, resting against the police station.

He threw the lid open and dived in, no consideration for the fresh odors that smeared on his clothes as he rummaged about. Cody found exactly what he was looking for, grabbed it and threw it out onto the asphalt. John and Sarah just looked in confusion as Cody climbed out of the dumpster to pick up the moldy old piece of carpet he had pulled out and watched as he headed over to the wall. The roars and screeches of the jocks approached, louder and closer from all directions, triggering Cody to rush back over to the dumpster, closing the lid and with all his might, rolled it away from the building and pushed it up against the steel and concrete of the perimeter that sealed the station in.

Cody hoisted himself onto the dumpster, gripping the carpet tightly in his hands, and flung it over the fence, safely covering the barbed wire that coiled at the top. Cody lifted himself over the fence and landed with a _thud_ on the opposite side, taking the carpet with him. John and Sarah watched in shock as Cody began to dash into the ruins of Las Vegas. The carpet lay in the street, far from their grips, taking away their hope for escape.

At the last second, Cody stopped. The echoes of the roaring infected continued to vibrate in his ears as he stood alone. He turned back, seeing John and Sarah standing there, with confusion and sadness, seeing Cody's true intentions. Cody immediately ran back and picked up the carpet.

Before he threw it over, he stuck his head into the bars, and glared at the two.

"If you're coming, you listen to what I say, when I say it, you do nothing else. If you slow me down, I will kill you or leave you to those meat eating fucks, got it?"

John and Sarah continued to look surprised. This was not the grieving, destroyed husband of a murdered wife and father of a murdered son they had sympathy for. With a quick gaze of reluctance, Cody tossed the carpet over the fence while John and Sarah climbed over the barbed wire themselves and hopped down to join Cody in the streets.

Cody immediately took off with John and Sarah weakly jogged behind him trying to keep up.

.

Later that night

.

The group held up in a broken down department store for the evening. It wasn't much, but still several miles from the police station and Malcolm, which was good enough for them. Cody had lit several dimmed worn out flash lights for their makeshift campsite which consisted of several piles of clothes for them to sleep on. Some of which, Sarah took for herself to get out of that mangy dress that only shouted torture in her mind from the things Malcolm and his twisted side kick Wurley did to her...She shivered the thoughts out of her mind and she returned to dazing into the darkness of the store around them.

To her left was John who had found bullets in the hunting lodge for Cody's gun, as he continued to load the bullets into the clip. He laid up on two chairs, sitting in one while the other held his feet in suspension. The bullets were only enough for half a magazine but John had hoped to get in Cody's good spirits with helping him out with at least something. Cody meanwhile was scrounging around the store, checking for more supplies and infected individuals to put down before having them kill him and his group in their sleep.

Cody's rummaging and noise began to fade, growing further and further away as he traveled deeper into the store, the brightness from the flashlight he was using went away as he turned the corner.

John took his feet off the chair and held his arms on top of his legs, leaning in towards Sarah, still in her daze.

John broke her focus with a quiet _psst!_

Sarah turned towards him.

"What're we gonna do about him?" John said, gesturing towards the darkness that Cody had disappeared into.

"You tell me Einstein, he's completely lost it." Sarah snapped back.

"Oh give him a break, that psycho killed his wife and kid, you can't expect him to keep his cool after that. I mean like how are we gonna handle it. Cause I won't stick my neck out for him if he snaps, but I won't leave him to die." John said, pitiful for Cody.

"Are you insane? He's dead weight John, no fucking way I'm gonna risk life and limb for his sorry ass."

"Spoken like a true sociopath, you're just like him...how many times did you sleep with Malcolm to get that shitty mindset in your head?" John asked condescendingly.

Sarah stood up, her fists clenched, ready to pound John's head into the ground. The memories she had tried to burn out of her brain started to come back like a deformed creature crawling out of the ashes.

"We agreed you little shit...no more saying his name, _ever."_ Sarah demanded, angrily.

John waved his hands, in a pathetic attempt to calm her down, _"Easy_ easy. I'm sorry, still a little shaken up from what I saw back there." John picked his legs up and put them back on the chair.

"Dude crushed a guy's skull in with his bare hands for gods sakes..." John mumbled. Sarah laid back down.

"Anyways, I don't see us sticking together very long. Either _he's_ gonna lose it and we both run, or the time will be right when we got enough supplies to take care of ourselves and then we go." Sarah added.

John continued to examine the pistol Cody lifted from the late Desmond, "Whatever, I get to keep the gun. Use your good looks to charm the zombies out or something."

Sarah glared at John irritatingly before attempting to go back to sleep, closing her eyes.

Little did John and Sarah know, Cody wasn't gone as long as they'd thought. By the time Sarah shut her eyes, John was on the ground, grunting in pain from the punch Cody threw at his face.

John lied helplessly on the floor, clutching his reddened cheek as Cody picked up the pistol John was holding.

"Trying to steal my shit already?" Cody asked maniacally, gripping the gun tightly by the handle.

"I was loading it up for you," John coughed and spit up blood, "I found bullets in a pawn shop just over there."

"Shut up!" Cody roared, his cry echoed through the wide open space of the mall around him. If anything was going to ensure them there were infected nearby, Cody's shout would've brought them running, "What's this I hear you guys are trying to run?" He glanced at Sarah then back at John who continued to writhe in agony.

Sarah was speechless, Cody had indeed lost his mind like John predicted, but she never would've thought he'd take it to Malcolm's level.

"Here's what's going down, you guys...aren't going anywhere. Even if you left, how far would you get? Hm?"

Both John and Sarah were still silent.

"Thanks for the bullets John." Cody said, eerily polite, "Now I got an even better plan. If you try to run I'll shoot you, simple as that." He said, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his lips.

"Now." Cody said as he plopped down in what was John's prior seat, "Let's get some rest shall we? I'll take first watch. John, you look fine right there on the ground, take it easy!" His voice pitched up and down as he spoke in a sort of clownish manner with slight hints of a threatening disposition that both John and Sarah could sense.

The man John knew when he first broke him out was gone. The man Sarah saw weeping in vain as his wife and son were slaughtered in front of him was gone. These thoughts continued to run in their heads, surrounded by nothing but the silence, John's coughing, and the chilly gusts of wind that blew as fall turned to winter outside the thin concrete walls.

.

 _Two months later_

.

The several thick inches of snow bit at John's feet as he struggled to keep up with Cody who was just up ahead. Sarah was lagging behind as well, although she was much further than John was. Cody held his pistol tightly day and night. Their winter clothing was barely any thicker than what they wore when they first met up with each other. The cold didn't seem to bother Cody as much.

After fending for themselves so much and surviving in the deeper ruins of Vegas, staying away from other bandits, Cody felt like part of a family again, even if John and Sarah were still deathly terrified of him and wondering what he'd do if they tried to run. Their silence spoke volumes through the gusty winds and snow that blew in their face as they trekked along the barren wasteland. For John and Sarah, it felt too late to be leaving Vegas, but to Cody it was just right, with his maniacal new agenda.

Cody stopped on a hill, as did John and Sarah, as they gazed into the distance. Through the thick winter-y fog and dense clusters of falling snow, stood FTi Alpha, its lights ever glowing and people the size of ants to their perspective strolling right in through the front doors...

.

Arnold stumbled away from Cody, taking his hand off and collapsing on the bed. Only a few seconds had past for everybody in the room, but for Arnold it felt like a full length movie.

Cody's legs felt weak and he himself collapsed into the chair behind him. Arnold took deep breaths, regaining his own consciousness and awareness of his surroundings.

"What-what the hell?" Arnold asked, gasping for air, almost as if he held his breath for a century, "You-kidnapped these people?" He said, waving to John and Sarah who were now standing together next to the door.

"I-I don't know what came over me...I was so angry, I just wanted my family back." Cody said, slightly weeping. He glanced at John and Sarah whom looked back at him,

"I'm so sorry guys. It was him. All along it was him inside me." Cody said. John and Sarah both nodded, knowing who Cody was referring to in his little pronoun game.

"So you decided to capture one of _us!_ Just so you could take off an extra slice of the pie?!" Gerald asked furiously.

"Gerald stop!" Arnold cried, "We were taking off a slice ourselves. Look at this." He said, waving his hands around the room, "I didn't even think about it when we claimed this place. We had dozens of people at the time and now we have nearly _hundreds._ We're feeding them shit and we get to live like royalty. It's not right!" Arnold said sternly. He continued to pace the floor.

"I've gotten careless, I've been stupid, I didn't realize instead of chasing happiness and trying to do what's right for everyone, I was only doing what was right for me and my own happiness. It cost Stinky his life, it might've cost my grandpa's life. All this shit is happening right under my nose and I never _fucking saw it!_ " Arnold yelled angrily, his fists tightened with rage.

Gerald and Helga watched, wide eyed, Arnold was never one to cuss, but for all the times that it slipped out, they knew what he was feeling.

Arnold walked right up to Cody, their faces no more than four inches from each other.

"This guy, Malcolm. Is he still alive?" Arnold asked, still fuming, but his voice and tone started to slow down.

Cody just stuttered, "I-I don't know." He was able to choke out. Arnold just stepped back in frustration, rubbing his scalp. He glanced at Helga who looked back at him. They both smiled lightly, knowing a new adventure was coming.

"But I'll tell you one thing, if he is." Cody spoke up, much louder. His regret-filled sobs and crying were gone. He was back to normal. Arnold looked back at him, as did Gerald, Helga, Sarah and John; everybody in the room. Cody breathed in.

"I'm sure as hell gonna help you kill him."

.

.

.

To Be Continued.

From the Author,

Hey all! hope you liked my original addition to the Hey Zombies universe, I felt it was the right time to introduce some fresh blood to the series, seeing as everybody's settled down at FTI Alpha. It's ambiguous on whether or not they're going to try getting to San Lorenzo to look for a cure to the zombie-like infection. Like I said at the beginning, I want this story to really go places. Recently, I've been heavily inspired by the Walking Dead show and comics and their realistic take on the apocalypse and how it affects the characters at their human core. I'm just getting into the "Negan" story arc and I _loooove_ Negan. If you haven't read the comics, he is a brutal and psychotic yet suave leader of survivors that antagonizes Rick Grimes' group. As I saw more of him and the, pardon my french, _fucked up_ shit he does, I thought bringing that brutality to Hey Zombies could keep the story fresh. As far as Malcolm goes, I'm still debating how much of him we're going to see, but I can guarantee you, it will get ugly...

So, now that Arnold's seen what Cody's experienced in his recent past, will he forgive him? Will he let Cody and John live amongst the survivors at Alpha? What about Arnold's friends? Will they feel the same way and take John in as one of their own? Find out in the next chapter of Hey Zombies, coming soon. Keep surviving!

-Matt


	33. After

_**Hey Zombies**_

.

.

.

 _After_

 _"Even with my immense intellect, I can't make myself any clearer when I say: I am just as much in the dark as you all are."_

The sky cast a grey shadow as thunder roared around the base. Arnold placed the last of the rocks on the crude memorial. The stones were eerily yellow and dingy, the souls of the dead filling the graves dug by Goose's men. Arnold lifted two small strips of metal that he held tightly in his hands. The entirety of the base surrounded Arnold as he and Gerald stepped back from the pile of rocks, after hanging the metal strips on the hooks embedded in the metal pole jutting from the rocks. They crossed their hands and looked down, closing their eyes tight. Scrawled on the strips in legible chicken scratch were the names Stinky Peterson, and Phillip Shortman.

 _"I can however confirm for the record, this...power, it's not a gift, it's a curse."_

The sky started to fall, one drop of rain at a time. Cody could hear the tapping on the roof as he curled up against the wall in his cell. His eyes started to rain on their own. His sobs echoed throughout the cell block, no one to hear him grieving for his dead wife and son. His heart never felt heavier with regret as images of his conflict with Arnold and the wicked man he became that night, how he became infected by Malcolm's sadistic tendencies, out to achieve and gain for himself and no one else. The aggression and deviance he portrayed was not his own for several days when he let the envy of Arnold's friends' spoils get to his head, bringing him to threaten a pregnant woman...Cody only sobbed harder and louder.

 _"You must be careful how you use it, Shadow-1 is a determinate beast. Simple minds cannot take its immense power and it only corrupts them, turning them into the monsters you've seen out there. It appears if they are infected long enough, they start to mutate into what Krieg's referred to as "jocks"._

John and Sarah, although still free and locked away like their companion, still felt imprisoned, surrounded by people they hardly knew, dreading the judgement they could receive from being affiliated with someone whom was recently a threat to the entirety of FTi Alpha.

 _I can say without a doubt, you all carry Shadow-1. You all have had it developing in your system since you were exposed to the Corazon all those years ago. This explains Charlie's immunity when he got bit back in Hillwood. Of course he still fell to the disease, but as my theory stated, the Corazon only acts as a limited vaccine, its own power draws away the supernatural energy of Shadow-1, releasing its host from its bond._

The rest of Arnold's friends surrounded the memorial, along with the whole population of FTi Alpha, people who had lost loved ones, struggling to survive with the limits that Alpha had to offer for them. It wasn't much but at least they could sleep at night. Mr. Hyunh held his daughter's hand tightly, Nadine stood near by, leaning her head on Tai's shoulder. For a second, she and Mai, Hyunh's daughter, locked eyes and felt their sadness intersect. Harold and Sid couldn't help but tear up after thinking of all the memories with Stinky in their elementary days. All the pranks and gags they were a part of to give their classmates a hard time. It was a golden age back then. The era of sadness was just beginning.

 _This does not mean you will not mutate. It's possible if you use your powers too much... you will decay the lifespan of the vaccine...and become one of them._

Helga walked up to Arnold and held him by his shoulder, pushing her head against his chest. He warmly held her with his own hands, "How about Sam?" She said, rubbing her inflated stomach. Arnold looked down at his unborn child and then gazed back into her eyes, "Samuel Miles Shortman." Helga said once more. Arnold, for once in a very long time, started to smile and he nodded, very sporadically. Arnold liked the idea. Nobody ever called Stinky by his real name Sam, not since kindergarten.

The darkness shrouded Arnold and his friends in a thick blanket, suffocating them all with the pain of grief, unable to cope with the fact that more people they cared about their whole lives were gone. But they all knew, deep down, this is the world they live in now. This is how things were going to be...

.

The next day

.

Victor was wrapping up his briefing with Arnold and his friends, the ones he believed to have powers.

"As for what exactly these abilities are for you four, it's hard to determine what each of you is capable of. From what I've studied, I can confirm: Arnold is telepathic, Gerald is pyrokinetic, Helga is telekinetic. Sid and Charlie, I have yet to determine what exactly you guys can do unfortunately."

Charlie and Sid looked disappointed, wondering if their Corazon exposure even gave them abilities. It was indeed a mystery.

The memorial they planted the day before had been laden since then with more strips of scrap metal provided by Goose for the refugees who had lost loved ones to mourn. They wrote names on the metal strips and hung them from the post. Beneath the rocks, buried in an isolated section from the compound, were Stinky's, Phil's and all other bodies that the soldiers were able to recover, resting at peace.

By morning the next day, almost a hundred metal strips hung from the post, looking like a melancholy Christmas tree with ornaments representing dead people instead of snowflakes and elves.

Victor paced back and forth in front of Arnold, Helga, Gerald, Sid, and Charlie; while Miles and Goose looked from afar. This was all new to Goose. He watched in awe as Victor educated the young adults in front of him as well as Goose himself.

Goose turned towards Miles as Victor continued to talk, "So these kids are like superheroes or something?" He asked humorously, yet genuinely confused.

Miles shrugged his shoulders, "Something like that." He replied with a smirk.

"But how'd they get like this? You're telling me they got these powers from the jungle ten years ago?" Goose asked.

Miles chuckled again, "I didn't want to believe it myself either, but Victor was able to convince me...even if his methods weren't so subtle."

"Can't believe we're trusting this asshole now." Goose mumbled under his breath.

"Like I said, he's not subtle, I'll never forgive him for experimenting on my wife and I, and the fact he may have caused the deaths of 90% of the Hillwood population..."

"Just Hillwood? Miles, he authorized the testing in Omega that caused the breakout over the entire nation, in my book he's responsible for _everything_."

Miles turned to Goose, his face and determination were immense, "I wouldn't go there just yet." Goose glanced at him in confusion, "Who's to say he authorized the human testing, but something was sabotaged at Omega, causing the breakout...something tells me his playground was supposed to be a lot smaller than the entire nation."

Goose started to look surprised after hearing Miles' theory, "May be on to something Miles, but I still can't trust Victor as far as I can throw him." Both of them glanced back at Victor who proceeded to talk. Feeling relieved that he hasn't heard any of their discussion, they looked back at each other.

"Just let him do his thing. He's been working on this for years, he knows more about what's going on than any of us." Goose nodded reluctantly, but still in agreement.

"What's the news on Cody?" Miles asked.

"We still got him locked up. Arnold's made his report on Cody's background while he was in Vegas, but we have no way to look up files on if this 'Malcolm' character even exists."

"Arnold seemed pretty convincing when he told _me_ about it." Miles argued.

"You're gonna trust his 'ability' on this?"

"He's been right about everything so far, it'd make sense, justifying Cody's behavior."

"The man pulled a gun on your daughter in law Miles." Goose said determinedly, "I'd say that 'justifies' taking him to the gallows."

Miles placed his hand on Goose's shoulder, "All can be forgiven Goose. Let's get the interrogation going after Victor finishes here and we eat."

.

-Two hours later, lunch time-

.

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" John asked as Helga worked on her fresh new cot. The clanging noises and metal hums of the hangar restored life to the environment, compared to the dark silence that it emitted during Helga's kidnapping and the last supply run.

"Don't know yet. The main doc doesn't have a sonogram so we can't find out till he pops out." Helga said with a chuckle, rubbing her stomach which looked ever so larger.

"When will that be?" John asked from his cross legged position. He and Helga had already eaten. Sarah served soup to the other survivors. John glanced at her from afar, she looked a little more upbeat than she usually seemed.

"Beats me, could be tomorrow, could be 3 months from now. I'm getting a little too big for my taste though, that's for sure." Helga said, almost discomforting.

"I'm sure he'll be a healthy baby, this is a good place for him to get born in." John replied.

"As good a place as any..." Helga said back to him, "How are you doing?" She asked comfortingly.

John twiddled his fingers, still feeling heavy from the events that took place the last few days, "Been better, as always." John and Helga locked eyes,

"Just hard to accept what Cody did to you...wasn't right, and sure as hell wasn't him the way I knew him way back when. I guess Malcolm really got to him...almost like he infected Cody with his sadism. He's been through hell and back, and when he came back, I think he brought his demons with him."

Helga looked at him, her disconcerning look turned to pity as John spoke.

"Malcolm was not a good guy... _at all_. He tortured, punished, and killed what mattered most to Cody. As I watched in the distance, I knew I had to step in. I'll tell ya, if I had the right tools to knock Malcolm off right then and there, I would've done it."

"Don't say that to Arnold when you start up his combat training classes..." Helga chimed in, "We are not killers. Most of all, Arnold isn't. If you want in his good spirits, that feeling of vengeance has got to go." She said.

John just looked at the concrete floor, disappointed and yet still kept an open ear. He glanced up for a second and noticed Nadine, a few tables away staring at him. John started to form a smile and Nadine gave him a wink that made his smile grow larger. Helga noticed his change in expression.

"Hey," Helga said, John looked up at her again, she smiled back at him. "There is evil out there. I've seen it. But if there's a way to make things better, always take the high road. Look at my friend Sid. He ran with a bad crew when this all started out but he was just trying to survive. Of course I hadn't forgiven him for a long time for what his men did to me...But I can say whole heartedly, Sid was scared. He didn't know what he was doing, neither did your friend Cody. Arnold just brought the fear out in him, and it made Cody good again."

John's smile grew larger.

"Maybe there's still good in this Malcolm guy, if we ever see him again." Helga added, her own smile grew when she saw John's reaction, John's frown came back, only for a short while.

John stood up, "Somehow I doubt that..." He grunted as he walked away, Helga watched him as he marched, seeing the fear in his steps.

"Still making friends?" Sarah asked sarcastically as John got closer to her,

"Haha," John replied with his own flavor of sass.

"Nothing like making friends with the girl whose head your buddy put a gun to just a while ago..." Sarah added.

"Hey, Cody's not like that anymore. I've heard they're working him over in interrogation to find out everything he knows about Malcolm."

"Which is probably not much..." Sarah chimed, her sense of doubt emitted in John's ears. John put his hands on the table and leaned in close.

"You could probably help him y'know...you knew Malcolm for a lot longer than he did." John argued. Sarah looked at him with a doubting gaze, not enthused by his suggestion.

"You have no idea what I went through with that prick...they shouldn't know either." Sarah replied.

"Just an idea, Cody saved our lives after all." John said before he walked away. Sarah watched him, thinking to herself, dreading what reawakening the pain and trauma she endured would feel like.

John walked up to Nadine, wrapping up her lunch time, her frizzled golden hair mangled but still an attractive sight somehow.

Without invitation, John sat down, Nadine looked at him, a sense of welcome and lust cast itself over the duo.

"Hi." John said, seductively.

.

The mildewy smell of the cell block made Cody more nauseous than he felt while living in the hangar. Arnold knelt down and slid a tray of food under the metal bars towards Cody, who was still curled up on the hard concrete, leaning against the back wall. Miles, Goose and Arnold crowded around the cell, watching Cody's weak arms stretch towards the tray and pull it in to consume the food that was laiden on it. Cody looked up at the three with a discerning look.

"I suppose it's too much to ask for a little salt and pepper?" Cody politely and disconcertingly asked.

"It's fine the way it is." Goose responded with equal politeness, "You gave us a scare with that little stunt of yours, what's got your rage all cooped up all of a sudden?"

"You gotta understand something General, that...that wasn't me. That's not who I was before I came here...I just, snapped, y'know?" Cody said as he picked apart the food from his tray.

"No, I don't know." Goose replied very crassly, "Why don't you tell us about your friend Malcolm."

" _He's not my friend."_ Cody said under his breath, fury growled with his words. "He's the _devil_."

Arnold knelt down, getting on Cody's level, and looked at him, sternly. Cody looked back, into Arnold's eyes. He recognized the same furious individual that approached him when he held Helga hostage.

"I told you everything. I don't know if he's still out there, but I said I'd help in anyway I can. This guy is bad news, and he has, or had, almost fifty men to back that up..."

"How'd you meet John and Sarah?" Arnold asked.

"You saw in your little head movie Arnold, or whatever that power of yours is...you tell me!" Cody replied, very snobby.

Images of his horrific past sped through his mind like a movie on 3x speed, then he shook his head, "John, Sarah and I got out before the compound was completely overrun. He could've died there, he could've gotten out, he could've died when he escaped, I. Don't. Know." Cody spoke with clear frustration. Arnold stood back up and glanced back at his dad and Goose, both complacent in Cody's response.

"Where are they now?" Cody asked after a moment of silence. His anger turned to worry.

"They're fine. We have a new bed system now here, if you pull your weight and earn your keep, you get a cot for your family. We have a spot set up for you and them once we let you go." Goose replied.

"When will that be." Cody asked sternly.

"Soon."

"There's one other thing," Cody started, "Malcolm knows how to move. Quickly and quietly. We had three different spots in Vegas where I cooked meth for him before we finally took the police station from the zombies. We stayed there for like four months."

"Good, what else." Miles added.

Cody climbed to his feet, his legs clearly weak and shaking from undernourishment and replicated trauma, "He was planning on attacking this base." Cody spoke up.

Arnold, Miles and Goose looked at each other with complete surprise.

"He had his eyes set on it from the beginning of October going into the winter months. Before those mutated things attacked, he was going to carry out the assault before the snow started falling."

"So what slowed him down?" Miles asked.

"Besides the obvious jock attack? He...had rivals. Other gangs who wanted their own turf in the city. Malcolm was a meth supplier for one of them and he supposedly 'held out' on the latest shipment." Cody said.

"Why the hell would anybody deal drugs in a chaotic world like this?" Arnold asked.

"You give a druggie his fix, he'll fix your goddamn meals and massage your feet as long as you kept him happy. 'The City that Never Sleeps' had plenty of nightcrawlers before the turn mind you. Malcolm needed some way to keep them under wraps." Cody replied.

Miles turned to Goose, both aware of what the other was thinking. Goose sighed in frustration.

"Victor's not gonna like delaying the Lorenzo trip again..."

"He won't care," Miles started, "Remember how he wanted to set up a 'playing ground' for Arnold and his friends with their abilities? Now's our chance to please him and get his trust." Miles suggested.

Goose nodded slightly and then turned to Cody who continued to stand. Goose approached the door and whipped out his keys. Cody smiled slightly when he heard the click, and the door slid open. He stepped over his knocked over food tray and left the cell.

Miles stood in front of him, towering over him slightly as Cody was a tad shorter than Miles. Miles held his hand out.

Cody looked at it in confusion and then back at him, reaching slowly forward to grab it.

Miles snagged his hand with a firm grip and shook it up and down once, "Welcome to the family." He said with a smile. Cody smiled back.

.

.

.

"Wow." John wiped the sweat from his brow. The cold damp air in the infirmary swept over his naked body, "So that's what that feels like..." He said as victory jogged through his mind, a wide grin was glued on his face as he rolled over on his side.

Nadine turned towards him, her own body lacking clothes and covered in sweat from her and John's "workout".

"You tell me cowboy. You were the one doing all the work." She said, winking. John looked at her, "I thought your hair would be a dealbreaker, but hey I'm sold." He said as he leaned in and kissed her, Nadine returned with her own puckering lips.

John hopped off the hospital bed and started pulling his jeans and boxers up his legs.

"Think your dad's gonna notice?" He asked.

"My dad?" Nadine asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, the asian guy you spend a lot of time with? Think he'll notice us pairing up?"

Nadine's mood switched on a dime, "He's...not my father."

The victory in John's mind faded away as he was once more reminded of the new world they lived in, and the bottled up heartache he may have unleashed in Nadine's head.

"I'm so sorry." Was all John could say, choking on his words.

"It's fine, you didn't know. My family was killed in the outbreak, I saw my own dad turn and attack my mother." Nadine replied. John was shocked by her apathy, the monotone way she spoke, "Tai and I bonded when Arnold got our group together, he accepted me as his second daughter on the spot and I never looked back, until now..."

John started to feel timid by her words, the feeling that he was being accused of throttling her past. He approached her as she threw her blue shirt over her head. As she fitted it, John got in close and kissed her on the cheek. Nadine put a hand where John had kissed her and looked back at him.

"You'll never have to look back again..." John said with a smile.

Nadine smiled back.

.

.

.

"You want to what now?" The shock was more explicit on Victor's face than any other emotion he had expressed in his life.

Miles stepped forward. "You said you wanted to test the kids and their abilities with the initial outbreak. We all know how that turned out...now's as good an opportunity as any."

"Yeah that was before I found out using their powers could _kill_ them! Not to mention, these new things that are popping up, what do your grunts call them Goose, jocks? Stupid name.." Victor grunted.

"We lock you up when you're in critical condition, barely feed you and you complain, like we thought you would. We let you out, roam the lab, do your own work without our trust and you still know how to bitch and moan." Goose chuckled.

"I'm picky." Victor replied sarcastically.

"Listen, we're still two months behind our scheduled flight time, which gives the comms people plenty of time to figure out what happened to your San Lorenzo team. I know we've done everything in our power to piss you off and 'compromise' the San Lorenzo mission. But we figure this can make up for it."

"Make up for it?! You are talking about sending them into unknown territory, which they nor you have no mapped out idea of, going up against god-knows-what's out there."

"Cody's got information, he believes there's some bandit king or someone in Vegas that plans on attacking Alpha."

"Who the hell is Cody?" Victor asked begrudgingly after several moments of silence.

"Prisoner who took Helga hostage." Goose replied, his tone indicated mild irritation with Victor's inconsiderateness.

"And you're trusting him based on..."

"Call it my gut." Miles replied, "We didn't trust you as far as we could throw you at one time. You stuck needles in my wife and my _father_ who still sacrificed his life for the greater good, condoning to your twisted philosophy and look how long it took to come around for _you_."

"Pretty damn long I can tell you that." Victor said under his breath as he looked to the floor.

"Listen, we don't know what this guy is capable of. Cody said Malcolm had a whole army of dopeheads at his back, unpredictable, mentally unstable and worst of all, they have nothing to lose. If they attack us with enough power, we stand no chance. Goose's men might as well be carrying bb guns by how low our ammo supply is."

"If there's even going to _be_ an attack." Victor chided.

"One day Victor," Goose added, "That's all we're asking for. 24 hours. Tomorrow we head out at 0600. Arnold and his friends will go separately, a two man squad to each, they each cover an area of 10,000 square feet see what they find. If you're right and the city is completely drained, we come back and make immediate preps to go to San Lorenzo the following week. Then we're back on schedule, deal?"

Victor sat there, the men before him towering over him, clearly they held all the power. He slowly started to stand up out of his chair.

"I have no say in this." Victor said, glaring into both Goose's and Miles' eyes, "You've still got me on probation, so my words don't mean shit...but if you do this and put the lives of those kids at stake, including _your own_ _son._ Whatever happens out there will be on you."

Miles looked back at Victor, their eyes locked and Miles felt the intimidation, a sense of dread sneaking in the shadows. The dread knowing that Victor was right.

.

.

.

"So you and Arnold are going out..." Phoebe said, mildly disappointed as Gerald cleaned the last of the gun stash.

"I can't do this with you Pheebs, we're heading out very soon and I can't be leaving you on a bad note." Gerald argued, his voice echoing through the emptiness of the armory.

"So stay! What is it that's so important out there that you have to go out on your own with what little protection these soldiers have to offer."

"I can't explain, it's just recon as far as I know. We haven't had a chance to explore Vegas and now we've got the time of day to do it, that's all I can tell you."

Phoebe was silent for a moment, "You're hiding something..." Gerald had no response. He just turned, his face turning red from the heat of his ability surging through his body. He knew he had to conceal it to prevent Phoebe from discovering his secret.

"Fine, you don't need to let me in." Phoebe finally said after several tense beats, "I just worry about you is all. I know you're doing good out there, I just wish you didn't tiptoe so much around it with the people who love you."

"Oh Phoebe.." Gerald chided with his most sarcastic and know-it-all tone, aware of what exactly Phoebe is in the dark about, "Shouldn't be gone no more than a day. We'll go in, check out a few blocks, camp and be back by morning, deal?" He said standing in front of her, leaning his head forward.

Gerald's polarizing trance pulled her head in and caused her lips to pucker. Gerald's lips felt abnormally warm. Phoebe thought about asking if he had a fever but shut the thought down knowing it was pointless to argue with her man. Gerald smiled as Phoebe's lips released his and he stepped back.

"I love you." Phoebe said warmly.

"I know." Gerald said with a wink as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the armory, leaving Phoebe to stare at her feet and shuffle in her reoccurring lonesomeness.

.

.

.

"We got men in all towers?" Goose asked his captain. He spotted Miles across the compound and walked towards him, his security captain Tom Reese in tow.

"10 hour watches, each equipped with M1A rifles and plenty of ammunition, I should warn you though sir, our stockpile is running very low. If someone were to attack, we only have enough to hold out for two, three hours at most. Then we're at the mercy of our assailant." Reese said.

"Shouldn't matter. Our intel shows that whatever threat our witness Cody endured is weakened. His base of operations was destroyed upon Cody's escape and there's a strong chance that most of his men were killed."

"And why are we basing this on the word of someone who took one of our own hostage?"

"All life is precious, captain, just took our man a little while to get him on our side." Goose replied stoically.

"Whatever lets you sleep at night sir, I'll check on our men." Reese split off from Goose and walked towards a group of soldiers standing around and smoking cigarettes. Their behavior changed almost instantly as Reese marched towards them.

Goose approached Miles, "How are we on preparations?" Goose asked.

"Arnold's getting his friends in the hangar, we're gonna split them into two groups. Sergeant Farrell will escort Arnold and Sid to LAS Airport and explore the south district. Gerald and Charlie are going with Staff Sergeant Coleman to explore the main strip on Vegas Boulevard. Any sign of trouble, I have several men taking the APC out to Twain street where they'll help Arnold and Gerald's groups get out quick and safely."

"You thought of everything eh Colonel?" Goose said proudly.

"It's a whole new world out there as far as we know, I want to make sure we're the ones who take control." Miles replied.

"For all our sake, I hope you're right." Goose said, "Your son's gonna do great out there," Goose patted Miles on the shoulder and turned to walk away.

Stella entered the picture as Goose passed her, giving her a respectful nod as they crossed.

"He doesn't know you're gonna be on that APC does he." Stella chided to her husband.

"Goose's men are good but that's our son out there. And that's our grandkid Helga is carrying," Miles waved towards the hangar where Helga was resting, "Victor told me if anything happened it was gonna be on me, this is my idea after all."

"Hopefully Goose won't get too angry." Stella winked.

"Just taking responsibility. If he gets pissed, use your feminine charms to calm him down." Miles winked back as he spoke softly. He leaned in to kiss Stella on the lips.

"What should I do while you're gone," Stella seductively whispered.

"Keep the cot warm, we'll be back before supper, promise." Miles answered. He and Stella embraced once more before they broke up and Miles headed towards the truck. Stella watched her husband walk away in his typical heroic fashion. She turned and spotted Gerald walking up to her.

"Stella." Gerald greeted.

"Gerald, figure you and Arnold always ran in pairs." She said with another wink.

"We gotta cover more ground somehow." Gerald said with a smile. Stella leaned in and hugged him.

"Be careful out there Gerald, I see the way Phoebe looks at you, that's a special thing to have in the world we live in now." Stella said.

"Will do Momma Shortman." Gerald said derisively. The two shared a meaningful nod and Gerald walked in Miles' direction.

.

Arnold prepared to hop in the jeep when Sid called his name. Arnold looked back to see Sid, surprisingly not equipped with any weapon.

"You okay Sid?" Arnold asked discerningly.

"Think I'll sit this one out..." Sid said under his breath. Arnold's surprised look only grew in intensity, "I'm no good with a weapon, you've seen me. If my exposure to the Corazon really gave me an ability, I would know by now right? I don't want to compromise the mission, and I _really_ don't want to put you or me in danger if push came to shove...get me?"

Arnold looked at him for a moment, pondering the timidness and fear in Sid's eyes. He flashed back to Sid's bandit days and how he treated Arnold at first, with Chet and Brig at his side; wondering how Sid could come so far and yet still feel so stuck in a dark place. This was something Arnold had to address when he returned.

"It's no problem Sid," Arnold put his hand on Sid's shoulder, "I'll be back before you know it, and we'll work this out together, okay friend?"

Sid's eyes glistened and a smile grew on his face, not out of relief that he was no longer obligated to face the danger out there, but because he knew Arnold trusted his judgement. He nodded. Arnold smiled back and hopped in the jeep. Sid turned to walk back towards the hangar.

Sergeant Farrell sat in the driver's seat with Arnold as his shotgun passenger, while Walker and Rome, Farrel's squadmates sat in the jeep bed.

"Lunch buffet's all here, let's get rambling!" Farrell called ahead to the jeep in front which housed Gerald, Charlie, Staff Sergeant Coleman and Corporal Gareth.

Coleman flattened the gas pedal with his foot and both vehicles rolled out of the compound onto the deserty road. Goose stood by the gate, watching as they disappeared over the dirt hill. He looked to his left and saw soldiers loading equipment into the APC, ready to head out themselves for the rendezvous point, completely unaware Miles was already in the vehicle.

He looked towards the horizon again to see the sun rising and casting a dreary light over Las Vegas' abandoned skyline which was visible in the distance, the apocalyptic landscape surrounding it emanated a shadow of ambiguity as the mission commenced...

.

.

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To Be Continued


	34. Sync

**_Hey Zombies_**

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 _Sync_

The bullet hole in the dresser from Cody's gunshot was still etched in Helga's brain. Helga spent every other minute thinking about it, knowing what would've happened if Cody hadn't come to his senses and put the bullet somewhere else.

As Helga unpacked the last of her things from the hotel room, something in her bag caught her eye. A small black corner of a rectangular object. She reached down with some effort due to her massive stomach and pulled out Arnold's book, _Western Anthologies of Science Fiction_. She walked over to one of the benches and sat down, opening it to the first page.

The first story read: "The last man on earth sat in his living room. There was a knock at the door."

A blanket of warmth cascaded itself over Helga as she smiled, knowing Arnold would be okay out in the wild. It's been a few hours since the group has left for Vegas.

"Hey Helga..." said a booming and somber voice behind her. Helga turned and jumped from her seat when she saw Cody approaching her, hands raised in a surrendered stance. His face was masked by the melancholy gaze that was considered normal by the general population of FTi Alpha.

"Easy easy, didn't mean to scare you."

Helga spotted a soldier approaching the two, prepared to take Cody back into custody for violating his restraining order against her. She gently lifted her hand and signaled him to back off. The soldier nodded and returned to his post.

"What do you want?" Helga asked intensely, returning to organizing her things. Cody sat on the bench she was just sitting on.

"I know I'm not supposed to be around you. Your...husband and his father chose to trust me. I come to you in peace, hoping I could possibly seek...forgiveness."

Helga angrily shoved Arnold's science fiction book back in her bag. She turned to him and glared.

"Listen buster...you put a gun to my head, _a gun_ , thinking you were all high and mighty that you could take over...not once did I think you were gonna pull it off. As a matter of fact, I'm surprised Arnold didn't gun you down right away when he came kicking in the door. You're lucky that guy has a heart of gold for sons of bitches like you..."

Cody stood there in shock, aware of the repercussions of his actions but still stunned by the reaction he was receiving.

Helga returned to organizing her things.

"I know I can't say anything that'll change your mind about me...but I know my son would've loved you guys." Helga paused, thinking he was referring to John but knew John wasn't his actual son.

"Trevor was always looking to connect with other people, he never was much of a social butterfly, got bullied in school, stuck to the walls at parties, all the introvert bullshit. But when he got his chance to show off his talents he knew exactly how to bring the house down." Cody smiled, Helga saw as Cody's emotions changed, calming her own internal anger.

"When the outbreak started to hit the Midwest, my wife and I didn't know what to do, we were simple church going suburbanites; Trisha kept the house clean and drank wine with her girlfriends, and I taught chemistry to put bread on the table. But Trevor, somehow he knew, like he was made for this madness. All his movies and video games, somehow his addiction taught him something...I failed him, because my wife and I couldn't learn fast enough. And because of that we ended up in Malcolm's clutches...and the rest..well..you know that story."

By that point, Helga was sitting cross legged, staring into Cody's dead-eyed gaze as his memories flooded his eyesight.

"When John and Sarah came along, and we escaped, I wasn't gonna let that happen again. I wasn't going to fail someone else and cost them their life. And in my rage...I became like _him_...it was as if Malcolm was a monster himself and he 'infected' me with his twisted mind."

Compassion swept over Helga as she realized Cody was still human. She struggled to stand up with little Sam floating about in her massive gut.

"Hey..." She put an arm on Cody's shoulder, "It's not over till it's over. You still got time." She smiled.

Cody smiled back, "And I want to use that time to make it up to you."

"Well, your options are a bit limited there." Helga joked as she stood over him.

"I want to make a crib for your baby." Cody said, Helga's little jest couldn't break his melancholia. He stared at her with a determined glare. Helga looked back at him in surprise.

"I already talked to General Goose, he says I can use a small portion of the supplies for repairing our barricades to make a crib for your kid. It's the least I can do. Little Sam deserves to grow up with at least a sliver of humanity in this place..."

"Well thank you Cody. That'd be very sweet, I know Arnold would love it." Helga said, her smile grew bigger, "But there's something else, I think, you could do... _for me_..." Helga said as her hand slowly crept up Cody's face, tickling his cheek as she still towered over him, a sly grin on her face.

Cody looked back into her eyes, feeling a bit uneasy.

The next few seconds, he should've seen coming. The punch was quick, and struck him right across the jaw, sending him to the floor. Helga's fist loosened almost immediately when Cody hit the ground.

"You're a nice guy Cody, but you gotta reap what you sew, now we're even." Helga said as she cracked her knuckles. Cody rolled onto his side, looking up at her as she gave him a wink. For a second, Cody wondered how hellish his life would've been if he had someone like her for a daughter. For another moment, Cody felt pity for whomever fathered her.

Cody started to smile again, knowing he deserved that, "So it's a deal?" Cody said, still attempting to straighten his jaw as he lifted himself back on his feet.

"It's a deal, Sam and I thank you for your generous offer." Helga said condescendingly with a smile. Cody turned to walk away. It was getting close to lunch time. Helga decided to get some food.

After she got her serving, she returned to her bench and actually started to read Arnold's science fiction book. She opened the first page, skipped the first story and started reading as she scooped little chunks of meat into her spoon and downed them with a single gulp.

"The Star" by HG Wells, Helga wasn't much for the older classic stories, too many big words. But she attempted to get on Arnold's level nonetheless. She finished the first few paragraphs of the story and prepared to turn the page. Helga looked up and saw Cody hanging with Sarah by the serving line, same as every day. Her hand reached forward to turn the page with her eyes still focused on Cody and Sarah; suddenly she felt the paper slide into her fingers, a lot quicker than normal. Helga looked back down and saw her fingers gripping the page. She shrugged it off and continued reading.

When it came to turning the next page, she was looking at the book this time. And this time, she realized how she was able to grab the page so quickly. She hovered her hand over the paper and saw it twitching on its own. There was no wind, she was sitting on metal, and no one was dumb enough to pull a prank on Helga Pataki-Shortman.

Helga bit her lower lip as she lifted her hand. And with it, the page followed, lifting out of the book on its own, following the gestures of Helga's hand. Helga's heart began to race. She knew she was telekinetic but it was still hard to grasp when she saw it actually happening.

Helga slammed the book shut, and smashed her face into her hands, "This is ridiculous...super powers...zombies...insane crime lords...what the fuck has my life become." She rubbed her hands up and down on her face as she took a deep breath. This time she spotted her meal fork. The shining plastic utensil sat idly in her bowl.

Helga took a deep breath and looked around her. All the other refugees were still in their own business. With several quick blinks and a slap across the face, Helga lifted her fingers, pointing them at the fork.

Slowly, she lifted her shaking hand and hovered it over the fork. In an instant, the fork was levitating. Helga's eyes widened with surprise as she started to spin her fingers. The fork began to dance in mid air with every movement of her hand. Helga gritted her teeth in a forced smile as she realized, _this is real, this is happening, I can move things with my min-_

"Hey kiddo." said another familiar and booming voice behind her. Helga slammed her hand down, cramming the fork between her hand and the cold metal table.

She turned to see her father, Big Bob, sporting a white shirt, his muscles squeezing and trying to break out of the linen, plus wearing his traditional khaki slacks and combat boots. He had a distinguishable thick stubble that covered most of his cheeks and around his jawline, looking less like the traditional business man he was before.

Instant relief swept over Helga as she realized Bob could not have seen her little trick from the angle he approached her. She quickly put the fork back in the empty bowl of soup.

"Hey dad, you're not eating with Suzie today?"

"We were up a _tad_ late last night, we haven't really gotten to eat at all." Bob said, gleeful as ever, his best shit-eating grin smeared all over his face.

" _Gross_ dad! You're not in your old bedroom you know, there are people all around you when you pull that shit..."

"Hey hey, language baby girl, and we're learning how to be subtle...just not fast enough." Bob said with another gleeful wink.

"What do you want dad, besides trying to gross me out with encounters with your new girlfriend..."

"Just wanna see how my little grandson is doing. He still kicking?"

"Yep." Helga said, rubbing her gut, "Still a little trooper, seems a bit too anxious to get out here and walk around." She jested.

"Well you keep him in there for as long as you can, God knows this world isn't ready for more life but you've made your choice." Bob said.

"That I did dad, thanks for your concern." Helga said with a smile. Bob's lips twitched and he turned to leave his daughter alone.

"Hey dad..." Helga said, somberly. Bob turned.

"Wanna sit with me?" She asked. Bob's heart began to grow warm. He still wasn't used to seeing his daughter's compassionate side. He nodded and walked over to the table, sitting across from Helga.

.

In the corner on the far side of the hangar, Sid sat alone with a small handful of paper clips he was able to scavenge around the base.

Sid sat against the cold metallic hangar wall, twisting a piece of metal straight and then upward. When he was done, he was holding a little stick figure in his hand, made from the scraps. For a second, he smiled, feeling at piece with his little work of art. Then the happiness fled, like peeling off a band aid. Sid started to frown and with a single squeeze, crushed his stick figure in his hand. He opened his hand once more to reveal the crumpled pieces of metal. He saw himself in the little pieces of metal. For a while Arnold was his anchor in re immersing himself with his friends again. But now that the voice of reason was on his expedition, Sid couldn't bear but dive back into his dark past. He started to question once more how he became in league with scumbags like Chet and Brig. How he let them...touch Helga. The memories would never leave. Somehow he knew exactly how his friends felt during that whole ordeal. He could sense their pain, and anger. He could feel how they looked at him. The mortal distrust was indefinitely the worst. It was still a mystery, the bandits' evil clouded Sid's mind, he wanted to admit his mistakes once more. It would be his dozenth apology on the matter but he knew how chaotic things were at the time and knew keeping his mouth shut would suffice.

"Hey Sid!" said a peppy voice. Sid turned and saw Eugene approaching him.

"Oh...hey Eugene." Sid choked on his reply.

"Another dreary day it seems, but everyone appears to be in high hopes now that we've got a team exploring Vegas!" Eugene said, as smiley as ever. Sid could feel the pain behind Eugene's smile though, he could sense the grief for Stinky's death. It still hit Sid hard that his favorite hick was dead.

"Eugene...can I ask you a question?" Sid asked, uncrossing his legs and dropping the crushed metal man in his hands on the floor.

Eugene sat down, getting to Sid's level, "Of course buddy! We're friends! Always have been, you know that."

"When does it stop? When does a connection with another human being stop? After one evil act? Two? Three strikes and you're out sort of thing?" Sid raised his eyebrows, adding both curiosity and self doubt to his question.

"Gee Sid, that's kind of deep. Have you eaten yet?" Eugene jested, friendly slapping Sid's shoulder.

"I'm serious Eugene. When is the point of no return?" Sid demanded more out of his question that time, he glared at Eugene with intense determination.

Eugene's smile faded into a straight face, "You're thinking about your bandit days again aren't you." He said, scooting closer to Sid whom started to gloom at the floor with Eugene's response.

"Hey, everybody deserves a second chance." Eugene started. But Sid continued to gloom, unstirred by Eugene's reply.

"Look at that Victor guy, Sid, I mean, he was psycho back at that other FTi base and now they've got him working around the clock to help us fix _this whole thing!_ They gave him a second chance, and we sure as hell gave you one too."

Sid didn't budge.

"Sid, look at me." Eugene said, picking Sid's head up by the chin with his hand, "No one should wander the apocalypse alone. You did for a while and you ended up with the wrong crowd, that's all. You made mistakes and you sure as hell atoned for them long enough I'd say."

Sid didn't want to admit it, but Eugene's smile was infectious as he started to form a smile across his lips as well.

"I guess you're right Eugene." Sid replied with a smile. Eugene reached forward and squeezed Sid as hard as he could. Sid returned the hug, albeit with a more weakened grip but a hug nonetheless.

"You've had plenty of time to count your sins, and you've admitted it long enough. Stop this pouty nonsense or I'm gonna feed you to the jocks myself." Eugene jested once more. Sid couldn't help but continue to laugh and smile.

Until suddenly, the happiness was masked by a shadowy pain that overwhelmed Sid's body. His stomach started to churn and quiver as he doubled over in pain. Eugene let him go to assess it with him.

"Sid? You okay?" Eugene asked worriedly.

"I..I don't know." Sid said struggling to his feet. The nauseous sensation only overtook him even more as he felt a strange pain like nothing he's ever felt before. The feeling grew ominous as Sid felt something across the hangar. He frantically looked around, seeing everybody's faces. He saw Harold and others eating lunch together, he ignored John and Nadine openly holding hands as he looked in other directions. Than he heard familiar laughter that sounded clear, almost as if it were right next to him. But the only ones he saw that were laughing were Helga and her father Bob, way over on the other side of the hangar.

.

Helga and Bob's laughter died down as Bob finished telling a story that involved Helga's "conception". The grief over Miriam was still very strong between the two.

When the laughter finally stopped, Helga just sat there stirring the remnants of her soup as Bob looked at her.

"Listen, sweetie, I know it bothers you that I'm with Oskar's old lady but you gotta understan-"

"I understand," Helga interrupted, "We lost Miriam, Suzie lost Oscar. It's not easy getting over losing loved ones. I miss mom just as much as you do Dad, and I _know_ you still miss her."

Bob reached across the table and grabbed Helga's hand. "I do kiddo, that I do."

Helga felt warmth in her father's reply.

"Hey, what say I do something special for you and the football headed kid." Bob said with a smile.

"His name is Arnold, dad..." Helga jokingly chided.

"Right right, I mean you guys are gonna be parents! I'm gonna be a granddad! Even in all this shitstorm I gotta provide for my grandchild!"

"Well...Cody the new guy offered to build a crib from scratch for little Sam. Maybe you can put those muscles to work once more." Helga said with a wink.

Bob gave a warmly smile, seeing his daughter glowing.

Helga felt the same way, then her stomach started to churn and bruise.

All of a sudden Helga doubled over in pain, her front side felt like it was being torn apart, Helga couldn't help but start to wail and moan. Sweat immediately formed on her forehead. The book she was practicing with started to gravitate on its own towards Helga's person.

Bob ignored the book as he approached his daughter, "Helga? Baby girl?" He cried as he gripped her falling body.

"O _iguhggug_! It's... _coming!-yarghhh!"_ Helga screamed.

Bob flailed his head around, "Medic! I need a doctor! Dammit somebody _HELP!"_ He picked up Helga by her back and legs.

The soldiers standing guard at the large metallic hangar door sprinted towards Bob.

"Get her a stretcher, call that doc! The baby's coming." Bob said, slightly calmed down but his voice continued to quiver and shake through his worrisome sobs.

"Yes sir, get Dr. Krieg on the horn now, we need to get her to the infirmary." Said one of the soldiers to the other whom immediately pulled out his walkie.

Bob spotted Suzie running up to him.

"I heard Helga screaming from across the way, what's going on?" She asked. Her gentle tone soothed Bob some more.

"It's the baby, I think she's about to give birth." Bob said, his eyes matted with tears from the horrific sight of his daughter in pain.

"Hey," Suzie said, gripping Bob's cheek with her smooth skinned hand and pulled his head towards her, "This is a good thing. Krieg helped save Charlie from being infected. I think he can make a simple delivery."

Bob reached up and grabbed Suzie's hand.

"This is a glorious day, you're going to become a grandfather." Suzie said with a smile.

Almost out of thin air, Sid popped up besides the pair.

"What's wrong with Helga?" He said, extremely worriedly.

Bob turned to Sid, looking stunned, but understanding over Sid's concern for his friend.

"She's giving birth Sid, looks like Arnold's kid is coming sooner than we thought." Suzie chimed in.

"Thought I'd be long dead before I'd see any grand kids...guess this is my calling."

"Something's wrong..." Sid said, as he watched the soldiers turn the corner out of the hangar and towards the infirmary building, Helga on a freshly unfolded stretcher. Bob looked at him again, this time a rare look of surprise molded onto Bob's face.

"What're you talking about Sid?" Sid turned to Bob and replied.

"The baby's not gonna make it..."

.

.

.

Helga continued to twist and turn on the stretcher as the two soldiers rolled her into Krieg's lab.

"She's fully dilated?" Krieg asked frantically as he slipped on latex gloves.

"Not sure sir, she was fine and then her father came running up to us saying she was in pain and couldn't walk."

Helga let off a shrill terrifying scream, her neck veins began to swell up and nothing but fear clouded her mind.

"We may have to cut her open to get the baby out. Can I get a sedative please." Krieg said as he threw on an autopsy robe.

Helga let off an even louder scream, her voice began to distort and her hands twitched violently. Krieg stood over her, not noticing the lamps above him began to flicker and bend towards Helga.

Several laden beakers and jars of fluid on the tabletops started to slide across the surface as Helga's screams increased in decibels every second.

Krieg started to sweat himself as he stripped Helga's pants off and removed her underwear. There was no crowning in Helga's vagina but Krieg started to notice the swelling of her veins all around her body.

He stood up and walked over to Helga's top side, and gazed into her face. Helga looked back at him, scared, she felt like her ten year old self again...

Krieg and Helga locked eyes for a couple more seconds.

"Helga...listen to me, Helga!" Krieg started, he knelt down, "This will be over soon."

A low booming noise filled the room, the frames of the walls appeared to contort inward and outward. The soldiers took several steps back.

Krieg started to take notice of the odd events occurring at that moment in the room. Helga herself drenched in sweat, her salmon-colored tanktop was soaked in bodily fluids as her stomach moved on its own.

"Helga?" Krieg said, not looking at her but watching as one of his favorite microscopes slid across the table and almost gravitated off the surface a couple times. He turned back to Helga who still looked at him, more terrified as ever.

Then suddenly, Helga let off the loudest scream she could. A sonic boom, like a grenade going off, erupted through the lab room, sending Krieg and the soldiers flying away from her. Everything that was once standing on a table was now smashing against the wall as if someone threw it or lying on the ground which was now a sea of broken glass.

Krieg watched in horror as Helga tossed and turned, sending broken and non broken objects across the room. Space time continued to bend and Krieg realized how Helga was affecting the environment. He turned to the soldiers.

"We gotta get out, now!" He cried, more panicked as ever as he felt Helga's telekinetic pull on his clothing. The soldiers felt it too, and they all clamored out of the room in fear. Krieg, in his struggle, pulled the fire alarm as he staggered out.

All three were still out of breath when Goose, Stella, Victor and a few other officers ran up to them, summoned by the immense high pitch ring of the fire alarm in their ear.

"Where's the fire?" Goose asked frantically.

"It's...It's Helga, she's giving birth." Krieg said through his gasping breaths, grasping his weakened legs which bent and contorted out of stress.

"So you left her in there alone?!" Stella responded, more panicked than ever.

"You don't understand doctor, her...ability, it's tearing the room apart. She almost picked us up and could've torn us to shreds."

Victor walked to the window and saw Helga in there, looking like the centerpiece of a disastrous tornado sweeping through Krieg's lab. Her screams were still deafening even on the outside.

"She must've lost control in the labor pains." Victor said under his breath, still staring at the sight, not feeling compassion but marvel and fascination at this colorful demonstration of Helga's telekinesis, clearly no sympathy for her suffering.

"Have you tried delivering the baby at all." Victor turned and asked Krieg.

"I couldn't get close, she...she's completely lost it." Stella walked up next to Victor and watched as well. While Victor watched in fascination, Stella could only gaze in horror at her daughter in law whom twisted and contorted with pain.

"I can't go back in there sir, she's not in control and it could kill anybody who gets too close." Krieg said, regaining his composure.

" _What in the blue heaving FUCK is going on in there?!"_ Bob shrieked as he bolted for the lab door as soon as he saw the state his daughter was in. Suzie and Sid turned the corner, having followed Bob.

"Bob, Bob BOB! You don't wanna go in there." Stella said as she dashed for him, gripping Bob in a bear hug with surprisingly brute strength and tore him away from the door.

"What the _hell_ are you doing to my goddamn daughter?!" Bob said, struggling with Stella's immense tightening grip.

"Mr. Pataki," Victor started, approaching him, "What you're seeing here is... _supposed_ to be classified." Victor turned towards the room and then back to Bob, the irony of a classified situation being as chaotic as it was, knew the secret was out now for the rest of the family.

"But you need to understand, your daughter is perfectly healthy. She's just a bit...special." Victor stuttered in his words, the projected shame of Helga's ability being revealed brought a flaming sledgehammer down on his ego.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Let me in there, I'm her _father!"_ Bob nearly shrieked.

Stella quickly hopped in and pulled Bob away from the window and took him aside. Helga's shrieking and the thumping of debris within the lab pierced everyone's ears, amplifying the chaos of the situation.

As Stella briefed Bob on Helga and the rest of the group's powers, everyone else continued to look in horror as Helga suffered. Sid felt a stronger connection than the others. The feeling drew him in and he slowly walked towards the door.

Victor saw this and snatched Sid's arm away from the handle.

"What do you think you're doing Sidney..." Victor asked sternly.

"She's dying. If we don't calm her down she could kill the baby during the birth or even herself." Sid's urgent tone suggested a plan. Victor could barely see it at first and than realized Sid was willing to go in and help.

"What makes you think you can help her. Dr. Krieg couldn't get right next to her without getting tossed across the room." Victor said very condescendingly.

"I just have a feeling okay? Just get me in there and _INNG!"_ Immediately Sid crushed his stomach and bent over in pain. Simultaneously Helga put her arms forward and clutched her own stomach, uttering a cry of pain similar to Sid's.

Victor knelt down to help Sid and then it dawned on him. He stood back up and looked at Helga and then back at Sid. After performing a double take he realized what was going on.

Sid regained composure, "The baby's crowning right now. I can feel her trying to push him out...the pressure against her womb, the oblonged shape of the baby's head...almost football headed like Arnold." Sid chuckled, recognizing the humor in the situation.

Victor just looked at him in awe and shock. Next to Charlie, Sid's abilities were a mystery to him. His intelligence bulb started going off.

"Come with me Sid, quickly. Stella, get Doctor Krieg to the comms room and put him on the PA system, we need to communicate with Helga somehow."

"But that's gonna transmit to the entire base!" Stella cried, arguably.

"If we don't stop this soon the entire base could be underground in a matter of minutes, just _do it!"_ Victor said as he dragged Sid by the arm around the corner to the secondary lab.

Victor tossed Sid inside and slammed the door, deeming this meeting extremely private.

"Sit." He ordered. Sid scrambled for a stool that sat in the corner and pulled it towards the research table. As he sat, he felt a strong discomfort, his forehead matted with sweat. Victor walked up to him, holding a black box.

Sid's heavily soaked forehead helped Victor press several suction cup wires onto Sid's skin. Victor set up the wires that connected the box to a computer on the table.

Victor typed several keys on the keyboard and a green pix-elated screen popped up on the monitor, two separate windows that bounced up and down like a dual vital sign scanner.

He scrambled for his walkie, clipped on his belt, and brought it to his mouth.

"Goose do you copy?"

A few moments later, "Victor what the hell are you doing with Sid, we need to figure out how to help Helga."

"For your information, I'm doing that right now, enough chastising and tell me, what's her condition."

"You just saw her a few seconds ago, what do you think?" Goose said on the other line.

Victor just rolled his eyes, "Can you be a little more specific?" He said, omitting a very strong insult from the end of his question.

"She's turning on her side now." Goose replied.

Victor turned to Sid whom started to curve slightly to the right, his arms wrapping around his body. After several grunts, Sid coughed.

Quick on the draw, Victor brought the walkie to his mouth again, "Did Helga just cough?"

"Yes she did and...oh god, she's coughing up blood." Victor snapped his eyes towards the monitor. The green lines peaked at very low heights and then instantly they bounced into the higher regions, barely moving, just scraping along the top of the monitor.

"That's it..." Victor said under his breath. The discomforted Sid just looked at him with confusion. Victor stood up from his chair and walked over to Sid, ripping the suction cups off his forehead, leaving several bright red marks on Sid's face.

Victor looked down at him, "You're an empath Sid." He spoke deeply.

"What?" Sid said, squinting his eyes in intense confusion through his struggle of ignoring the pain.

Victor was already dragging Sid out of the room.

"It seems that your personal exposure to the Corazon ten years ago unlocked a sort of connection to others. Your emotions adapt to those of people around you. If someone is sad, you'll feel sad. If they have evil tendencies, you'll feel the same."

Sid looked at the floor as they headed back towards Krieg's lab...he started to remember...

"As for why you're feeling the connection most with Helga is lost on me, can't worry about that now though. If Helga dies, our San Lorenzo trip is gonna be botched." Victor continued to explain, sounding extremely panicked.

Sid was barely paying attention as his mind started to flash to a week after the outbreak in Hillwood...

.

.

.

Sid frantically examined the cut on his arm, the infected individual at his feet no longer alive. Its head completely caved in by the final swing of Sid's bat. Sid rubbed at the cut, leaking fresh blood, hoping none of the infected's blood got into it. After waiting a few moments Sid was relieved that he wasn't starting to turn.

He swung his head to both the left and right of the wall he was leaning against. The wind passed ominously through the alley he was in. Sid again looked down at the creature he had just killed, how that used to be someone's husband...maybe even a father.

Tears started to well up in his eyes, but Sid knew if he didn't start moving, he was a dead man.

He rushed to the alley exit and stumbled onto a road, strewn with abandoned cars and more corpses. Thankfully the amount of cannibalistic psychopaths, as he was prone to call them, was a solid zero. Sid hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder and started strolling down the street.

His head was on a swivel as the wind continued to howl. The fright and timidness was explicit on Sid's body as he tiptoed across the blood stained concrete.

 _Sid was heading back to Hillwood from a road trip when the car in front of Sid started to swerve. He watched in horror as the car collided with the railing and tipped over. He immediately pulled over to assist, thinking the driver had a heart attack or something similar._

 _But to Sid's terror, the driver immediately lunged at him through the broken window. Thankfully, the car in its upside down state kept him incapacitated long enough for Sid to act in self defense, beating him to death with a baseball bat that had flung itself from the rear trunk of the car when it popped open._

 _After killing the infectious driver, Sid peaked into the backseat. The child's body was mangled, his spine crushed on impact. Sid could only clutch his hand to his mouth in intense shock._

Sid shook the memory from his head as he continued to stroll down the road. But he had snapped out of it too late when he felt a strike on his shoulder. The impact and follow up pain from it sent him to the ground, his bag fell off his person and he could only attempt to crawl away from his attackers.

One was tall and lanky, the other was a bit shorter, donning a jean material vest and chains wrapped around his torso.

"Stay down you little bitch or your death will be a lot slower." Said the tall lanky one, pointing the crowbar he had struck Sid with at Sid's face.

"Look at this Chett! The little fucker's got rum!" Said the bulkier one whom had pulled the bottle of Calypso from Sid's bag.

"Nice one Brigg, can't have a zombie apocalypse without a little liquor." The lanky one, called Chett said to the bulkier one named Brigg.

They looked at each other with a menacing glare. Sid could only watch as they continued to rummage through his bag.

Then all of a sudden, Sid's look of terror morphed into a sly grin. He raised his eyebrows and pulled himself to his feet.

"Hey, what'd I say faggot, stay the fuck down or we'll start with breaking your legs instead of your head." Chett said, approaching Sid and pushing his chest out.

Sid's arm shot up and shoved Chett away.

"You're sporting a prison outfit and your buddy there has a denim vest he probably stole from Mr. T's locker, and I'm the faggot?" Sid asked, his tone having shifted from shock and terror, to scheming and intimidating.

Chett just stared at him, stunned. The crowbar loosened in his hand. Brigg got to his feet as well.

"Listen, you guys wanna run rampant and steal shit from the little guy, I get it. But you're doing it all wrong. You're targeting one man bands, instead of going after bigger groups. You really wanna fuck with the guys flying solo and risk getting torn apart by those infected looking motherfuckers? Be my guest."

Sid didn't stop to take notice of how he was acting differently. His words came to him almost naturally.

"Fuck you man, you look like a pussy, what makes you think you know how to talk shit. Better shut the fuck up before I bust your chest in with this crowbar here." Chett said, stepping forward.

Sid just stood there, calmly, his hands both just hanging, aiming straight down at the ground, his legs slightly spread.

"You take one more step and your buddy is gonna be eating your eyeballs for dinner tonight." Sid fired back. Chett's amazement returned.

"Now, what say we team up, I'm surprised you dumbasses lasted this long. Stick with me and we'll show any pussy we come across who's really running shit around here. Got it?" Sid said. He calmly approached his bag which Brigg was just rummaging through and picked it up.

He looked at Brigg whom had an eerie sense of worry about him, highly contrasted to his intimidating stance just a few minutes ago.

"Let's go boys, we got zombies to kill, shit to steal, and girls to fuck." Sid boasted as he began walking away.

"He-hey we got wheels." Brigg cried out timidly, acting more like Sid was when he made his kill in the alley. Sid turned back.

"Seemed like a smart idea to say that a little sooner now yeah?" Sid said, "We're gonna head west, I'm driving."

.

.

.

"Sid... _SID!"_ cried Victor as he shook Sid out of his trip down memory lane. Sid could only stand there in shock.

 _I was never a bad guy_ , Sid thought to himself in relief.

Sid felt a sudden smack from Victor, bringing him back to reality once more.

"Sid, god dammit Helga is gonna die if you don't get in there!"

"Huh?" Sid asked, once again thrust into the confusion of the chaos that surrounded him, the pain from Victor's strike throbbed on his cheek.

"You're an empath. I believe that if you are able to absorb other's emotions, it's possible you can transmit them to others. If you can approach Helga in a calm state, perhaps you can reduce her stress levels and get her to focus on the delivery." Victor briefed him.

"Doc I don't-I don't kno-"

" _Motherdick!_ Sid that's your elementary friend in there! That's my daughter! Are you gonna save her or not!" Bob chimed in, completely oblivious to the information Victor had just informed Sid of, speaking only out of his passionate love for his only surviving daughter and her suffering.

Sid looked at Bob and then back at Victor. The only sounds they could hear were Helga's continuing screeches and the consistent rumbling of the room she was in.

Sid approached the door, no words could be spoken, and he slowly reached for the doorknob. Helga's labor pains were clear in Sid's mind.

He felt like screaming as loudly as she was.

"You can do this Sid, focus." Stella said behind him.

Sid looked back at everyone and then, taking in a deep breath, he entered the room.

Helga's screams were much louder on the inside. The abnormal shifts in gravity threw Sid off balance as he slowly walked towards her.

Helga continued to screech, Sid dodged an already shattered microscope as its debris flew past his head. Sid dived out of the way, colliding with the wall.

The mass amounts of debris started to gather around Helga and spun in a vortex shape. With every toss and turn of Helga, the vortex twitched, sending a portion of it flying in a random direction.

Some of it collided against the window that Victor and the group were looking in through, they backed away with surprise.

On the outside, Bob held Suzie tightly whom proceeded to stroke his arm, attempting to keep him calm. They both heard footsteps and turned to see Harold, Eugene, Phoebe, Nadine, all of their friends come rushing to see what the commotion was.

"The hell is going on here?!" Harold asked frantically, his look of shock focused on the chaos that was going on inside Krieg's lab.

"It's Helga, she's...trying to deliver the baby." Suzie replied to him.

Harold's shock turned to worry, Phoebe was the first to attempt entry to the room but Stella stopped her.

"Sid's handling it guys, don't worry." Stella said to everyone. Phoebe backed away, her hands pressed tightly together towards her face.

Even with Phoebe being Helga's best friend, it was Harold who was the first to break down in tears. The situation teemed with nostalgic irony. Harold was always a soft guy under his thick shell of a body.

"I know Miles and I have been wrong in the past, but I gotta say, this doesn't seem like the smartest plan, you sure this will work?" Stella asked in distress, turning towards Victor whom stood next to her.

Victor just turned his head like a marionette, complete with strings and a cold dead-eyed gaze. His glare of fascination faded as he looked at Stella

"Nope." was all Victor could utter before he turned his puppet like head back towards the room. His fascination returned as he watched what he interpreted as _his_ experiment unfold...

Stella, not surprised by Victor's cold hearted response just brushed it aside and walked back to the window which began to crack from the intense collisions of debris.

Sid's legs started to shake like cooked spaghetti as he approached Helga on the stretcher.

"Helga, can you hear me?" Sid asked timidly. Helga just replied with another roar of pain. Her face was matted with dry tears that were moisturized by fresh ones oozing from her eyes.

Sid squinted as he felt a thrust of gravity push against him.

He felt fear, and if Victor was right, he knew his fear would melt onto Helga. But it wasn't fear he wanted her to feel.

Sid wanted Helga to feel calm. He turned back towards the window, and saw all of his friends now crowded around the window. They were all counting on him.

"You remember when I used to be a photographer?" Sid said. Helga's screams of pain, although still explicitly showed suffering, started to dumb down in volume.

"I would take pictures of everything I saw...sometimes I'd just roam through Hillwood, finding beauty in the simplest things. I never could figure out why...why I was so...fascinated by inanimate objects. You remember how much of a dumbass I was...around Harold, and Stinky..." Tears started to well up in Sid's eyes, he could feel the sadness melt over his body like a cold blanket.

"Y'know for as much of a hick as he was, I still miss Stinky. I'm sure that you, even with this football headed demon trying to claw its way out of you, you still remember those days." Sid admitted, hoping his empathy would send reminiscence through Helga's mind.

"Taking pictures calmed me. I remember the most beautiful picture I had ever taken...it was a hot summer day like it was all those years ago, when we couldn't even get into the theater for that sweet _sweet_ air conditioning and the Jolly Olly nutjob selling ice cream at eighteen bucks a pop...A couple of kids had just busted open a fire hydrant. They were about our age when we were still at PS 118. The look of joy that came over their face when that water started pouring down on them like a little rain cloud...but that wasn't the picture I decided to take...it was what was happening behind them that drew my attention. I saw..."

Suddenly, Helga let off another screech of suffering when the next labor pain struck. The vortex of debris that clouded her body thrust out in all directions.

Next thing Sid knew, he was back against the wall. Only this time, he felt a pain of his own. As he attempted to get back on his feet, he felt a tug from his shoulder, and the sharpest pain he had ever felt in his life.

Jutting from his right bicep was a long plate of glass, his shirt immediately started to coat a dark red at the sleeve, he lifted his shaking hand to try and grip it, but the slightest touch sent a feeling of nails traveling through his blood stream and Sid could only cry out in suffering.

On the outside, Harold was the first to notice Sid's injury. He ran for the door.

"Harold, no!" Stella cried.

"Sid's hurt! You gotta pull him out!" Harold cried out in desperation as Goose struggled to tear him away.

"Just give it some time Harold, Sid will figure it out, I promise." Stella said. She turned back to Victor whom was focused solely on the action happening in front of him, as if he were in a museum looking at the finest of artwork.

"Is this what you want Victor? You want these kids to die?"

"No." Victor said immediately, he turned, his cold eyes staring into Stella's, "I want them to prevail."

Stella just glared at him, the passion and fiery anger in his eyes beamed.

"If we're to fix this infection, before it gets out of the nation...these kids must be ready to face the unspeakable."

"Wha-what?" Stella said, squinting her face in utter shock at Victor's calm tone, clearly still affected by it with the circumstances.

"You know what, or...should I say, _who_ I'm talking about..." Victor replied. Stella felt a chill down her spine with Victor's words.

Victor calmly turned back towards the room.

Sid could only stare at the glass that penetrated his shoulder. With a quivering hand he reached up, every little motion sent waves of pain through his body. His brain started to overclock as Sid gripped the glass and ripped it from his body.

With one loud cry of pain he stood up, the newly opened hole in his shoulder began to well up with warm fresh blood which leaked down his side and into his jeans waistband.

Sid struggled to his feet and walked towards Helga. The determination glowed brightly on his person as he attempted to approach her again.

 _Talking won't help her now, I need to act_. Sid thought to himself. His words were not enough to convey the emotion of calmness onto her.

Then, Sid came up with an irrational idea, he felt like his younger self again, his germaphobia, the fact that he believed vampires were real at one time. All the miscellaneous and stupid fears he ever had in his life felt bottled up into one big ball in his mind.

With that, Sid mustered all his strength. And when there was a window, Sid leapt forward, gripped Helga by the cheeks and kissed her.

He held her face tightly, smearing blood from his shoulder wound all over her face. Their lips locked tightly. Helga's eyes stared widely ahead. Sid's face filled the entire frame of her eyesight.

Suddenly, she felt a warmth in her. The labor pains, whilst still burning her lower abdomen, felt less like a bed of nails and more, oddly, comfortable.

The kiss lasted several seconds. Everyone outside the lab just stood there, mouth agape as all the fluttering debris and vortex of broken glass and non existent tables fell to the floor.

Helga felt at peace. When Sid was sure his empathy was finally breaking down Helga's mental wall, he released her lips from his grip and stepped away.

Sid breathed heavily as Helga looked at him in shock. A smile started to form on his face. Almost like looking in a mirror, Helga smiled back.

 _I got her just where I want her_ , Sid thought proudly. He approached her once more.

"I know this hurts Helga, but you gotta push. Come on, do it." Sid said in a low tone.

Helga looked at Sid and at her enlarged gut. The little humps of Sam's feet pushing through her skin, ready to be released into the world.

Sid felt calmness, Helga felt calmness. Sid was determined to deliver the baby, Helga was determined to get the baby out of her womb. Their emotions were finally one.

With one deep elongated breath, Helga gritted her teeth and shoved all of her mental energy in between her thighs. She could feel the lips of her vagina expanding as Sam, still inside her, struggled to get out, unbeknownst he was about to be born.

Helga let off a blood curdling scream as her vagina started to crown. Sid could see the petit football head starting to slide out. He struggled to lift his wounded arm to catch Sam as he began to erupt from Helga's womb.

Pieces of debris started to float around the room again as the pain from Sid's shoulder started to take hold on his mind once more. Realizing his desire for the pain to be over was going to affect Helga, Sid quickly retained his thoughts back to a calm state. Helga's emotions followed suit.

"Come on Helga, push, PUSH, _PUUUSH!"_

.

.

.

Samuel Miles Shortman was born April 23, 2013. The mood of the room quickly brightened as everyone realized Sam was going to carry on Arnold's football headed gene. It was Stella's turn to hold her beautiful grandchild.

Mei carefully handed him over to her. Immediately, Stella's cheeks grew a flush red as she looked down at him. She could see Arnold's face in Sam's little smile, formed by his petit lips.

 _He has Helga's eyes and Arnold's head_ , _the perfect combination_. Stella's lips quivered with excitement as she held the next member of the Shortman family. _Everyone here is my family_ , she corrected herself.

"He's very handsome, Helga. You and Arnold did well." Phoebe said with a smile at Helga, all cleaned up and resting in a wheelchair.

"Yeah, I guess Arnold can take the credit. Hurt like a bitch getting that little guy outta me though, lemme tell ya." Helga said, her remorse for the destruction caused in Krieg's lab was explicit in her tone.

"So, what you're like a super hero or something?" Harold asked amongst the crowd.

"Beats me, I promised the science guys not to say anything, but...yeah, I can move shit with my mind." Helga added with a wink.

"That's so cool..." Mei chimed in, twiddling with Sam's tic tac sized toes as Stella bounced him up and down in her arms.

"It's gonna be hard Helga, raising a baby in a world like this." Phoebe said.

"Yeah... but you know Arnold, he's willing to try anything even in the face of death. Why else would he run off to Vegas like a little boy scout. Doing what he can to protect all of us."

Phoebe nodded in agreement, but her face showed signs of discernment.

"Hey," Helga reached forward from her wheelchair, gripping Phoebe's hand, "Gerald's gonna be fine." She added, hoping to provide comfort for her best friend. Phoebe nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, Krieg had Sid resting on the stretcher Helga had been laying on as the clean up crew attempted to recover anything repairable from the destruction.

"You've got balls Sid, to take a hit like that and no major damage to your person is one hell of a feat." Krieg said as he cleaned Sid's shoulder wound.

"How's Helga?" Sid asked.

"Healthy, baby's doing great too. Even with his immense football shaped head, looks like Sam's gonna do okay." Krieg replied. Sid looked around, he saw Victor standing by the doorway, staring at him.

"Hey," Krieg started, Sid looked back at him, feeling both concern and worry, "You did good kid." Krieg said, nodding his head. Sid smiled in reply.

Then Krieg leaned in and spoke quietly, "Let's hope Arnold doesn't kick your ass for that last ditch effort too." Krieg winked. Sid couldn't help but let off a slight chuckle, but his voice shook as he laughed.

A sense of dread blanketed his mind, Sid started to think about his empathy ability.

As if on cue, "You're connected more to Helga than anyone else on this base, why?" Victor said as he approached Sid.

Sid just stared back at him in confusion.

"You're an empath. You are able to absorb and feel other people's pain, their love, their anger...but you can't quite convey _your_ emotions, you can't make people feel _your_ loss, your pain, your...loneliness. But Helga, you were able to project your calm state onto her without breaking a sweat."

"I..I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I think you do." Victor said, moving closer. Sid felt intimidated by Victor towering over him.

"What's the most effective and passionate form of connection that we have...as human beings." Victor boomed with his low monotone voice, tilting his head. Sid's eyes started to grow wide.

.

.

.

Later that night, Helga was nursing Sam in the hangar, leaning against the wall as Bob and Cody worked together on the crib Cody had promised to make. The dim lights hanging over everyone flickered and filled the hangar with darkness for several quick moments.

The ominous sense of danger was emanating and safety became a questionable feeling.

Bob and Cody had just finished the last of the crib legs when Sid suddenly came into the picture.

"Hey guys." Sid said, sounding very somber.

"Sid!" Helga cried out in relief. She stood up and handed Sam over to Bob. Cody sat against the hangar himself to take a sip from his water bottle.

Without another word, Helga leapt towards Sid and gripped him in a butch and masculine hug. Sid could feel the tightness gripping his subconscious.

"Ungh, Helga, can I...ugh speak to you in private?" Sid said as he struggled to get the words out.

"Sure thing boyo, guys hold the fort will ya?" Helga said to her best friend. Bob nodded with a heartwarming smile, feeling pride for his daughter as he shook Sam lightly in his arms, making embarrassing baby noises. Cody could only cringe as he rolled up his sleeves and took another sip of water.

Helga and Sid headed towards the hangar exit, walking slowly.

"Listen Sid, I never got to thank you for your...heroism if I can say that." Helga started as they left the hangar and stood just outside in the cold dreariness of the main compound that surrounded them.

Sid took a deep breath, "Helga.."

"But I gotta say, that was some weird shit was it not?! I mean that little sonuvabitch was just begging to get crushed between my legs and he just kept coming. Hurt like a mother fucker!"

"Helga!"

"But don't get me wrong, I know I lost control. I mean I couldn't figure out what was going on. Thinking back to when I was a hostage, I remember weird things happening in that room. I made the lamps start to flicker...the walls were bending in and out, I never figured for a second that _I_ was the one causing it."

"Helga, please.."

"I mean think about it! I can move shit with my mind, you can...I don't know, feel happy and make others feel happy? Is that right?"

"Helga, for god's sak-"

"I know..I know..you feel bad about that kiss, don't worry about it buddy, your secret's safe with me. Arnold would understand anyway that you were just trying to calm me down. And strangely enough it worked! I mean if you felt at peace, I started to feel at peace. If you were scared, I started to feel scared. _How cool is that?!_ You, me, Arnold, Gerald, maybe Charlie, we all have these really cool super powers, and that crazy science guy thinks we can save the world with them!"

"HELGA GOD DAMMIT LISTEN TO ME!" Sid finally broke, grabbing Helga by the shoulders. Sid took a deep breath and regained his composure.

"I don't know how to control this power. It's probably why I turned to banditry so quickly when this shit started happening. Brigg and Chet, they...their evil just took me over..."

Helga just stood there, in shock at Sid's sudden vocal burst.

"But there's a reason I was able to calm you down so easily. It didn't dawn on me at first, then Victor got me thinking..."

Helga just stared, wide eyed, curious but dreading Sid's next words.

"There was a time...you and I promised, we'd never speak of again...where you and I... _connected."_

Helga's mind clouded with fear.

"Fourth of July weekend, summer 2010..." Sid spoke, very lowly and assuredly.

Helga's mind started to dive back three years...

 _Arnold was at college, Stinky had a barbecue at his parent's house, Helga had a bit too much to drink, Sid had his share of over consumed alcohol._

 _The next day, Helga woke up in a guest bed, without clothes, and sleeping next to her, also naked, was Sid, loudly snoring._

.

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To Be Continued.

Author's Note

I'm not gonna lie, this was a _hard_ chapter to write...

Based on some major critique and feedback, I'm starting to revamp my upcoming approach to _Hey Zombies_. One point that one of my beta readers mentioned is that most of the action is concentrated on Arnold and a select number of his friends, which it is; not gonna lie.

To have something set in a universe with as big of a scale as The Walking Dead or even LOST with a large setting, a grand ensemble of characters and several evolved plot lines makes it very difficult to organize.

My passion for writing does get in the way of caring about _all_ the Hey Arnold characters because I do want to get as many of them involved in the action, which causes other characters to suffer because they are not mentioned, or perhaps the story is at a point that is extremely relevant for a particular Hey Arnold character and I'm blind to that fact.

So I decided to write this chapter with a pre determined set of characters in mind, a plot outline, how everybody is involved and then I just went for it. And to be truly honest, I'm quite proud of the end result.

Especially with Sid, a character I've been wanting to focus on for a long time now. For those who don't remember, Sid came in as a dark antagonist with a posse of bandits at his back to torture and reave over Arnold's group of survivors. I got some complaints that his evil agenda felt forced or that it was totally random for him to become the bad guy.

So I made sure, that with this chapter, to provide the background on how Sid became that way. He was part of the group that was exposed to the Corazon long ago, during an event I've made headcanon in the Jungle Movie (don't judge me...) and as with Arnold, Charlie, Helga and Gerald, was granted a certain ability. It ends up being empathy, where he is able to feel and transmit emotions to and from other people.

As for the aftermath and that dark plot twist...do not be afraid my fellow survivors...I'm sure the resolution to this newfound information on Sid and Helga will be positive and satisfactory...or will it?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. I consider it a grand turning point in both the story and development of Hey Zombies and I plan to dedicate a lot more time to chapters and make sure they are as fleshed out as possible.

Regardless, I've babbled long enough I think! Thanks for reading, everyone!

And as always...keep surviving ;) CHEERS! Matt _**out!**_


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